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diff --git a/29697-8.txt b/29697-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..de6ea80 --- /dev/null +++ b/29697-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12108 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Heart of Thunder Mountain, by Edfrid A. Bingham + +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 Heart of Thunder Mountain + +Author: Edfrid A. Bingham + +Illustrator: Anton Otto Fisher + +Release Date: August 15, 2009 [EBook #29697] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HEART OF THUNDER MOUNTAIN *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: "He tried to shoot once more, into the very face of the +oncoming brute."--FRONTISPIECE. _See Page 245._] + + + + +THE HEART OF THUNDER MOUNTAIN + +By EDFRID A. BINGHAM + +With Frontispiece in Colors + +By ANTON OTTO FISHER + +A. L. BURT COMPANY + +Publishers New York + +Published by Arrangements with Little, Brown & Company + + + + +Copyright, 1916, + +By Edfrid A. Bingham. + +All rights reserved + +Published, March, 1916 + +Reprinted, March, 1916 (twice) + +July, 1916; August, 1916 + +April, 1917 + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I The Forbidden Pasture 1 + II The Road to Paradise 15 + III Seth Huntington's Opportunity 26 + IV The Highest Bidder 37 + V "He Shall Tell Me!" 50 + VI The Story of the Scar 60 + VII The Way of a Maid With a Man 71 + VIII The End of Her Stratagem 86 + IX Hearts Insurgent 99 + X Strictly Confidential 112 + XI Avalanche 121 + XII Sunnysides 133 + XIII Hillyer's Dilemma 144 + XIV Coals of Fire 155 + XV The Valley of the Shadow 166 + XVI Questions and Answers 176 + XVII Interlude 186 + XVIII The Challenge of the Brute 193 + XIX Smythe's Last Budget 202 + XX "The Trail Held True" 215 + XXI In the Hollow of the Storm 228 + XXII The Narrow Passage 238 + XXIII The Miracle 252 + XXIV Haig's Argument 264 + XXV Diana 278 + XXVI The Snow 288 + XXVII The Voice in the Hurricane 302 + XXVIII The Man Who Did Not Forget 316 + XXIX Ghosts 330 + XXX The Lamp Relighted 344 + XXXI Sangre De Cristo 359 + + + + +THE HEART OF THUNDER MOUNTAIN + +CHAPTER I + +THE FORBIDDEN PASTURE + + +She sat hunched up in the middle of the silent pasture, where the +tall, thin grass ran ripening before the breeze in waves the hue of +burnished bronze. Her cow pony grazed greedily a few yards away, +lifting his head now and then to gaze inquiringly at her, and then +returning to his gluttony with a satisfied snort, commendatory of this +long rest. The girl had removed her small sombrero to adjust the +masses of tawny hair that had become disordered in her morning ride; +and the breeze now played with it, and the sun sought out its glints +of gold. She was fair, of a curiously rich complexion with soft golden +tints beneath the skin, as if the rusty gold in her hair was just the +outcropping of what ran in solution in her veins. And there was a +certain air about her that contrasted strangely with the scene upon +which she now gazed intently, with her head bent forward, and her +hands clasped round her upthrust knees. + +It was a little valley she had come upon by chance, snugly tucked away +among the hills. Below the bronze-colored slope there were lush +meadows of a brilliant green, and a shallow, swift stream that +flashed over black bowlders and white sand; beyond the meadows lay +more shining pastures rising to pale-green aspen groves and then to +dark-green pines; and above all these the foothills climbed swiftly to +the mountains, and the mountains more swiftly to the sky. There were +faint blue mists in the foothills, fainter violet shadows on the +distant fields, an icy whiteness on the peaks; and in the sky no more +than two small puffs of cloud like eiderdown adrift in the depths of +blue. What at first had seemed an utter silence laid upon that summer +landscape had now become, as she looked and listened, a silence full +of sound; of that indefinable humming undertone of nature maturing in +the sun; of insects busy at their harvest; of birds in the distance +calling; of grasses rustling in the breeze; of pines on the long ridge +droning like an organ in the Recessional. + +Yes, it was very beautiful, she thought. And sweet. And peaceful. She +had come a long way--halfway across the great continent--to find that +peace. But why should there be a touch of sadness in all that beauty? +And why should there be need to search for her handkerchief to press +against her eyes? For the first time since she had come to Paradise +Park she felt a little lonely, a little doubtful about the wisdom of +her brave revolt. + +She sank back at last, and lay curled up in the grass with her head +pillowed on one bent arm. There, to her half-closed eyes, the grass +seemed like a fairy forest, soon peopled by her fancy, the fancy of a +girl who still retained the quick imagination of a child. An Indian +paintbrush flamed at her with barbaric passion; nodding harebells +tinkled purple melodies; and a Mariposa lily with a violet eye seemed +like a knight in white armor, bowing himself into her outstretched +hand. Her eyelids drooped more and more. The music of the pines and +the murmur of the pasture blended in a faint and fading lullaby.... + + * * * * * + +Tuesday's shrill neigh awakened her. She sat up shivering, for the +warm air was underlaid with cold; and quivering, for the alarm had +fallen pat upon the climax of her dream. She rubbed her eyes, a little +blinded by the sunlight, and saw that Tuesday stood with head high and +nostrils distended, gazing past her toward the upper end of the +pasture. She was not surprised, being yet under the spell of her +dream-fairyland, to see a horseman galloping straight toward her. If +not the white knight, then--For some seconds she stared, awakening +slowly; and smiled at length at her childish fancy. It was only a +cowboy, doubtless, riding upon his own prosaic business. And yet--She +became gradually aware of something unusual, something disquieting in +the manner of the man's approach. The horse was leaping under the +spurs; the rider sat upright and alert in the saddle; and suddenly, as +she watched him, the man's hand went to his hip, and there was a gleam +of metal in the sun. + +She was not afraid. Seth Huntington had assured her there was nothing +to be feared in Paradise Park. But for all that, it was not without +uneasiness that she hastily arranged the meager folds of her divided +skirt, and passed her hands quickly over the still disordered masses +of her hair. And then he was fairly upon her, reining up with a jerk +that brought the sweating pony back upon its haunches. + +There was an angry glitter in the man's dark eyes, his face was black +with passion, and the bright object she had seen flashing in his hand +was the twin brother of Huntington's six-shooter. He was roughly, even +meanly, dressed. His coarse blue flannel shirt was unbuttoned at the +throat; his soiled brown corduroy trousers were thrust unevenly into +dusty and wrinkled boot tops; his old, gray hat was slouched over one +side of his forehead, shading his eyes. But the face beneath that +faded and disreputable hat, as Marion saw with a slight thrill of +curiosity, belonged to no ranch hand or cow-puncher. Whoever he might +be, and whatever he might be doing there scowling at her, she felt at +once that he was as foreign as herself to that neighborhood. But there +was no time at that moment to analyze her feeling, to formulate her +thought. And her next impression, following very swiftly, was one of +vague antagonism. She felt that she was going to hate him. + +"What new trick is this?" he demanded angrily, when he had looked from +the girl to her pony, and at her again, with unconcealed suspicion. + +For a moment she was undecided whether to answer him sharply or to +rebuke his incivility with silence. + +"I don't know!" she replied at last, by way of compromise between her +two impulses, with a half-playful emphasis on the "I," accompanied by +a very solemn, shaking of the head and a very innocent widening of the +eyes. + +There was a pause while he searched her face with a distrustful +scrutiny. + +"You're not just the person I was looking for," he said finally, with +a touch of irony. + +"How fortunate!" she replied, in a tone that was like a mocking echo +of his own. + +Her eyes met his unflinchingly, a little impudently, telling him +nothing; then they slowly fell, and rested on the revolver in his +hand. With a shrug he thrust the weapon into its holster. + +"Thank you!" she said sweetly. "You really won't need it." + +He jerked his head impatiently. + +"How did you get in here?" he demanded, quite as roughly as before. + +There was no reason in the world why she should not have answered him +simply and directly; but she did not. She was exasperated, not so much +by his words as by his manner, and not so much by his manner even as +by something provocative in the man himself. He was rude, but it was +not his rudeness that most annoyed her. She scarcely knew what it +was,--perhaps a certain indifference, a certain cold contempt that she +detected underlying all his anger, a certain icy and impenetrable +reserve that, for all his hot words, and for all his lowering looks, +she resented most as being in some way personal to her. And instantly +the minx in her rose up for mischief. + +"By aeroplane, of course!" she said tartly. + +It was a silly speech, and she regretted it almost before it had left +her lips. + +A faint flush came into the enemy's face. + +"Spoken like a woman!" he retorted. "Always tragic over little things +and flippant over big ones." + +That brought the color up into her face. But she was not subdued; for +the cat in woman also has nine lives--at least. + +"There's my horse," she said, with a toss of her head. "You saw him." + +"True! But cow ponies don't easily jump four-wire fences." + +"Why should they when the fences are down?" + +"Good! We arrive by the devious ways that women love. Perhaps you'll +give me the answer now that you should have given in the first place. +_How did you get in here?_" + +She bit her lip, reflected a moment, and attempted a flank movement. + +"My name is Marion Gaylord." + +"I knew that." + +"But you have never seen me before!" + +"No. But that's one of Huntington's horses, and Miss Gaylord is a +guest at his house. You see, I am more courteous than you after all. I +answer your questions." + +"Perhaps I'll answer yours when I know what right you have to ask +them." + +A light began to dawn upon him. + +"Do you mean--you don't know where you are?" + +"No." + +He gave her a long, searching look before he spoke again. + +"My name is Philip Haig," he said, leaning forward with a curious +smile. + +The result was all that he could have wished for. Until that moment +she had remained seated, firm in her determination not to be +disturbed by him. But now she rose slowly to her feet, her face +reddening, her lips parted, a frightened look in her eyes. The shoe +was on the other foot, with a vengeance. + +He saw all this, and without compunction, seized his advantage. +With a grim smile he threw the reins over the pony's head, swung +himself out of the saddle, and stepped toward her. As he came on he +removed his dilapidated hat with a gesture that made her forget it +was dilapidated,--a mocking, insolent gesture though it was. In +spite of her embarrassment she let none of his features escape her +quickening interest. She saw that he was tall, erect, alert; handsome +in some strange and half-repellent way, with his pale dark face, +rather long in contour, and with his black, curly hair matted on +the broad forehead. But she almost recoiled when, on his drawing +nearer, she saw for the first time--it had been hidden by the shadow +of his slouched hat--an ugly scar that ran from the outer corner of +his left eye down to the jawbone below the ear. It gave to one +side of his face a singularly sinister expression that vanished when +he turned and disclosed a profile that was not without nobility +and charm. + +Then suddenly her mystification was complete. Their eyes met, not as +before, but very near, so close had he come to her, still smiling. And +instantly, instinctively, she lowered hers; for she felt as if she had +been caught peering through a window at something she had no right to +see. Yet the next instant she was looking again, half-guiltily, but +irresistibly drawn. The eyes were of a curious color,--smoky black, or +dark gray-blue, or somber purple,--liquid and deep like a woman's, +but with a steady, dull glow in their depths that was unlike anything +she had ever seen or imagined. What was it that burned there? +Suffering? Hunger? Evil? Sorrow? Shame? It gave her something to think +about for many a day and night. Meanwhile-- + +"I see you have heard of me," he said mockingly. + +She had no reply. She was realizing slowly that she had trespassed, +that she had perhaps seriously compromised her cousin, and, most +humiliating of all, that she had assumed quite the wrong attitude +toward the man. + +"You really didn't know you were on my land?" he demanded, with a +little less offensiveness in his tone. + +"No," she answered weakly. + +"And Huntington didn't send you here?" + +"No." + +"I believe you, of course. But it's rather queer. How did you +happen--if you don't mind--" + +She did not mind in the least--was eager, indeed, to explain her +presence there. + +"I'm just learning to ride," she began impulsively. + +"This was my first venture off the valley road, and I--" + +"And you came straight to me!" he exclaimed, chuckling. + +At that a strange thing happened. He had meant only that she, the +guest and cousin of Seth Huntington, his bitter foe, had blundered +straight into the camp of the enemy; and that was a rare joke on +Huntington. But she was a girl; her little adventure was already rosy +with romance; and the effect of his careless speech was as if he had +looked into her heart, and read aloud for her something she had not +known was there. To his surprise and wonder the girl's fair face +turned red to the roots of her tawny hair, and a look of helpless +confusion came into the clear, blue eyes that until now, for all her +embarrassment, had frankly met his own. She looked suddenly away from +him. + +"You make me ashamed," she said at length, stealing a look at him. + +"If you know anything about my difficulty with Huntington," he began, +"you'll understand that--" + +"I do. I do understand!" she interrupted eagerly. "I don't know much +about it--the trouble. They haven't told me. I've only overheard some +talk--and I didn't ask. I rode down the valley this morning trying to +do it like a cowboy. And there was a branch road--and then the break +in the fence--and before I knew it I'd fallen asleep. That's +all--except--" She shot a half-mischievous glance at him "--you +spoiled a very beautiful dream." + +But this was all lost upon him. His face was clouding again. + +"Where is it--the break in the fence?" + +Chagrined at the failure of her bit of coquetry, she merely pointed in +the direction whence she had come. + +"Thank you!" he said. "At last!" + +With that he went swiftly to his pony, mounted, and started to ride +away. But suddenly he reined up again, whirled his horse savagely +around, and faced Marion with the sunlight full upon the scarred side +of his face, now ugly with menace. + +"If that fence has been cut," he said, in a hard and level tone, "it's +been cut by Huntington or his men. You tell him for me, please--and +you'll be doing _him_ a favor not to forget it--tell him that he's a +fool to anger me. I've been very patient in this business, but I don't +claim patience as one of my virtues. Do you hear? Tell him he's a fool +to anger me!" + +She watched him gallop to the gap in the barb-wire fence; she watched +him dismount to examine the severed wires; she watched him leap on his +horse again, and ride furiously down the road until he was lost to +view below the dip in the slope toward the valley. And still for some +minutes she stood staring at the place where he had disappeared. Then, +left alone with her pent-up emotions, she no longer resisted them. +Tears of vexation started in her eyes; chagrin, resentment, anger +swept over her in turn. She dug the heel of one small boot into the +unoffending soil--his soil--and thrust her clenched hands down at her +side. + +"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried, over and over again, striding forward and +back across some yards of pasture, trampling lilies and harebells +under her heedless feet, turning her flaming face at intervals toward +the spot in the smiling landscape that had last held the figure of +Philip Haig. + +The shame of it! She had never--never--never been treated so +outrageously. It was unendurable--and she had endured it! She flung +herself down on the ground and wept. + + * * * * * + +Marion was now facing life alone. Her nearest remaining relative was +her cousin, Claire Huntington. Her mother--a Southern girl who might +have stepped out of a panel by Fragonard, so fine and soft and +Old-World-like was her beauty--had died when she was still a child. +Her father, Doctor Gaylord, was the antithesis of the sprite-like +creature he had married,--a big, athletic, outdoor sort of man, with +truly violent red hair and beard, whose favorite expression about +himself had been that a very capable pirate had been sacrificed to +make a tolerable physician. But he had prospered in his profession; +and then had died with amazing suddenness, leaving his estate in an +almost hopeless mess. + +Robert Hillyer had tackled the problem,--Robert, the alert, the +busy, the supremely confident, the typical money-getter of the +money-worshipping metropolis. He had long been deeply in love with +Marion, but he had not made great headway in his suit, despite the +advantage of Doctor Gaylord's approval. Now, having saved enough out +of the estate (for so he said, though he never told Marion the +details of that miracle) to provide her with an income barely +sufficient to keep her in comfort but not in the luxury to which she +had been accustomed, he plainly expected his reward. And this was to +Marion an intolerable situation. She did not love Robert. She liked +him, admired him, trusted him; no more. Knowing her father's wishes, +she saw the way marked straight before her; for Robert already had +wealth, and could and would give her all the material things she +desired. Time and again she was on the point of yielding, but +something checked her, held her back, as if a voice had whispered +in her ear, and strong arms had seized her. She grew restless, +discontented, melancholy. And suddenly, on a moment's inspiration, the +strangest impulse she had ever known, she had revolted and fled from +the scene of her unhappiness, telling Robert (by letter) only that +she must have time to think, and that for six months he must leave +her to herself. She had fled to Claire, that cousin on her father's +side, who some years before, to the wonder and chagrin of many +Gaylords east and west,--to all except the Viking physician, who +had rejoiced in her spirit,--had eloped with a cowboy, since turned +successful cattleman, whom she had met at the Denver Carnival. Ten +days now had Marion been in Paradise Park, rejoicing in her +freedom, rejoicing in the half-wild life, rejoicing in the tonic +air and the tonic beauty of this Rocky Mountain valley, shut in, +isolated, and so aptly named. And only to-day had there come any +emotions that disturbed her peace. + + * * * * * + +When she looked up again her eyes were sharply arrested by a scene +that seemed curiously to picture her own mood. Far up at the head +of the valley a cloud that was scarcely heavier than a mist came +stealing out of a gulch to take its shining way along the range of +mountains. Dropping in its flight a shower as light as a bridal veil, +it sped glistening across the face of mountain after mountain, +softening the stark grays and reds, while above it the peaks gleamed +white. On and on it came until at last it arrived at the mouth of a +deep, dark gorge in the side of a mountain that, in its strange and +forbidding aspect, differed notably from all the others in the +majestic range. There it paused as if arrested by some stern command, +hung for a moment in palpable agitation, and was swiftly swallowed +up in the gorge. And again she had a vague and uneasy feeling, as +she had when first she saw it, that Thunder Mountain,--but she could +not fit that feeling into thought, could find no words to frame it. +Yet she was fascinated. + +It was half-hidden now in surging, black storm-clouds, while all the +sharp and snow-clad peaks around it glittered in the sun. Even in +those rare moments when it was freed from clouds and mists it stood +alone in its peculiar grandeur. Unlike all the others it wore no +diadem of snow. Some terrible convulsion of nature, some cataclysm at +its birth or in the fiery days of its youth, had left it bald-headed, +ugly, and deformed. But for that catastrophe it would have been far +loftier than any of its fellows; and even now the hunchback towered +among them, its flat head level with their pointed peaks, the most +conspicuous figure in the imposing pageant raised against the western +sky. + +And its deformity was not the whole of its misfortune. It bore the +brunt of every tempest that broke upon that massive barrier of +mountains. Its granite head was the very breeding-place of storms. The +peaks around it had their days of calm, but Thunder Mountain never. An +hour or two perhaps--no more. It knew no peace. The elements were, and +are now, and forever will be quarreling upon its worn and battered +head; lightning and rain and snow and wind are forever hammering and +beating it turn by turn. It is the Quasimodo and the Lear and the Gray +Friar of mountains, all in one. And if, on some still and perfect day, +its tonsured head emerges from the clouds, the watcher in the Park has +but to turn his head a moment, and look again, and lo! it wears its +gray cowl as before, and stoops growling and grumbling under its +endless punishment. + +Suddenly, as Marion looked, the silence was rudely shattered. Roll on +roll of thunder swept across the valley, crashed against the hills, +rebounded from wall to wall of mountains, until all the Park was +filled with the sullen bellowing. And then, amid all the tumult, +Marion heard something more,--a voice that mingled with the voice of +the mountain, and thrilled her while it filled her with a singular +disquietude. She had dismissed Haig from her thoughts. She was sure of +that. And yet through all the uproar, and in the tense silence that +ensued, she heard his taunting voice: + +"And you came straight to me!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE ROAD TO PARADISE + + +The gap in the fence remained exactly as it had been when it invited +her to adventure. But now she halted there, dismounted, and picked up +the end of a wire that lay trailing on the ground. With new-found +interest she examined the fracture, and stared at it in wonder. +Dropping it, and kneeling excitedly in the grass, she searched +another, and still another wire, and with the same result. Even to her +unpractised eye the facts were plain: the four wires had not been +broken; they had been cleanly cut, and very recently, as shown by the +absence of rust on the severed ends. By whom? And why? Seth +Huntington, Haig had said. Impossible! Absurd! True, she had heard +Seth denouncing him; Claire also; and without knowing the cause of the +feud, or caring, she had learned that Huntington and Haig were +bitterly at odds about something,--cattle, she thought, or was it +land? But that Seth could have stooped to the low trick implied in +these cut wires! And yet-- + +She looked down the half-made road by which Haig had disappeared. It +was quite empty now, save for Tuesday and herself. Nor was there sight +of man or beast in all the valley. Haig's cattle, like Seth's and the +other ranchmen's, were grazing in the summer pastures, no doubt in +little shut-in valleys far up among the pines yonder, where the +violet mists were deepening. + +She mounted her horse again, and rode slowly up the hill. But just +where the road entered the woods at the summit of the ridge she +stopped once more, and turned for a last look at her lost valley. Her +gaze swept it lovingly from where, at her left, the long ridge shut +off the view, to where, far at her right, the valley narrowed into a +pine-screened gulch; and back again almost to the spot where the road +dipped and disappeared. There her eyes were suddenly caught by +something she had not seen before,--a thin spiral of blue smoke that +mounted slowly until it was struck and dissipated by the breeze from +across the ridge. Haig's ranchhouse, surely, nestling below the hill! +The house would be visible, doubtless, from the place where Haig had +vanished from her sight. What would it be like? she wondered. + +The next instant she had pulled her pony half-around toward the +valley. But Tuesday turned his head, and looked at her; and she felt +the blood rushing into her face. + +"Go on, Tuesday!" she cried, jerking him back into the road. "What are +you doing?" + +She rode on into the pines, embarrassed beyond all belief. + +In a few minutes she had emerged again from the woods, descended the +hill, and regained the main-traveled road along the Brightwater. +Still she rode slowly, forgetting that she had learned at last to +ride like a cowboy. She was reluctant to return to Huntington's, +reluctant to relate her experiences as she had always related them +until to-day. Haig had sent a warning to Huntington. It was her +duty to deliver it. But how could she tell just so much and no more? +There would be questions. She would be cross-examined, kindly enough +but relentlessly. And in some strange way this meeting had become a +private matter; Haig's warning was inextricably mixed with other +things that did not concern Huntington. Just what these were, and why +they were so very private, she could not quite explain to herself; +and for the moment she did not try. They were things to be thought +about later, when she could think more clearly. She knew only that +she should never be able to endure either the banter or the +disapproval of Huntington. What did Claire see in him anyhow,--the +soft and sensitive Claire, with her blue eyes and her pretty face +always upturned so trustfully to him? For the first time she realized +that she had distrusted Seth from the beginning. + +In the midst of these confused and disconcerting thoughts, she became +aware that she was no longer alone in the highway. Slowly as she rode, +she was steadily overtaking a group of horsemen that appeared to be in +difficulties. At intervals there was a commotion in the group, and +clouds of dust from time to time concealed it from her sight. She +reined up Tuesday, and hesitated, having had her fill of adventure for +one day. Then, as the men seemed to be quite oblivious to her +presence, and deeply absorbed in their own affair, curiosity drew her +onward; and all her scruples were forgotten when she had ridden near +enough to see the cause of the disturbance. + +Three men on cow ponies were leading, driving, and avoiding a fourth +horse, which was not a cow pony by any possible extension of the +word. This horse, which wore neither saddle nor bridle, but only a +rope around his neck, maintained an almost uninterrupted struggle with +his guards. At the first near glimpse she caught of him through the +dust, Marion uttered an exclamation of surprise and admiration. He was +larger than the ponies ridden by the men, larger than any cow pony, +yet not a big horse measured by any standard with which she was +familiar. His lines were like those of a thoroughbred, and in his +movements, for all his fury, there was a lightness, a daintiness, an +eloquence that suggested nothing so much as the airy grace of a young +girl skipping and dancing across a playground. + +But it was his color especially that drew the cry from Marion's lips. +This was pale yellow, not the cream color of the familiar buckskin +breed, but something golden; of a brilliant luster like gold leaf, but +softer; rather like cloth-of-gold, with a living, quivering sheen. All +the horse's body was of this uniform, strange tint, but his mane and +tail were a dull, tawny yellow deepening at the extremities into the +hue of rusty gold. Though his hide was streaked with the sweat of his +rebellion, and caked in places with the dust of the long road he had +come, and welted by the whips of his tormentors, the color and the +gloss shone out as undimmed as his proud spirit was undaunted by the +hard knocks of his captivity. + +The three men clearly were hard pressed. Their faces were coated thick +with dust; their eyes were red-rimmed, bulging, and bloodshot; their +movements were heavy with fatigue. Scarcely a sound escaped their lips +as they watched for every fresh manoeuver of their prisoner, and +fought doggedly to gain a yard or two along the road. In the silence +and intensity of the struggle there was something savage, elemental, +and incomparable, heightened by the extraordinary beauty of the animal +and the uncouth appearance of the men. Between them, the captive and +his captors, Marion's sympathy was about equally divided. At every +gallant sally made by the horse her heart leaped, and she hoped +instinctively that he would go free. But then, the next instant, she +was thrilled by the bold and shrewd counter-play of the cow-punchers +that blocked the horse's strategy. + +Marion had scarcely comprehended all this, and imperfectly, when a +terrifying thing occurred. The golden horse seemed to have paused and +gathered all his forces for an effort that should make his best +previous performance look like the silly antics of a colt. Suddenly, +and without any warning manoeuver, he charged the full length of his +rope straight at the man who held it coiled in his hand, with the end +looped around the horn of his saddle. At the final bound, he reared as +if to fall upon the cowboy and mangle him with his forefeet. But +instead of finishing this attack, he whirled on his hind legs with +incredible swiftness; and before the man could gather up the slack of +the rope, or brace himself for the shock, the wild horse dashed across +the road with all the strength and fury there was in him. + +Marion screamed, and closed her eyes. There were dreadful sounds of +falling bodies, of bodies dragged on the ground, with grunts and +groans and smothered cries. Then silence. When she dared to look she +could see at first only a welter of men and horses half-hidden by the +dust. Near her lay the gold horse with his head twisted backward by +the taut rope, which choked him until his eyes bulged, and foam +dripped from his lips. The man who had held the lariat lay half under +his fallen pony, whose efforts to rise were checked by the tightened +rope still tied to the saddlebow. The two other men were on their +feet, one clutching the straightened halter, the second deftly +slipping a lariat around the prisoner's pawing hind legs. + +It was all over in a minute. The taut rope was cut near the saddle of +the fallen pony, which then scrambled to its feet; the leader rose, +shook himself, and proceeded phlegmatically to adjust the turned +saddle, and to climb stiffly into it; the leading-rope was passed to +him again, the second lariat was loosed from the outlaw's feet, +permitting him to rise; the other men remounted; and the procession +moved on again in silence, scarcely a word having been spoken from the +time the horse made his mad charge for liberty. And now he seemed to +have had enough of the conflict, for he stepped forward obediently +and, Marion fancied, as demurely as a child that has finished a +naughty tantrum. + +Then at last there was speech. One of the men had dropped back a few +paces to be in the rear of the prisoner. He sat heavily in the saddle, +leaning forward as if he would fall on the pony's neck. But his eyes +never left the golden horse, and when he spoke it was not to the girl, +who had ridden close up to his side, but to himself, in a kind of +hoarse and guttural soliloquy. + +"But he ain't done. He's foolin'," the man said again and again, as if +he had started the words and could not stop them. "He ain't done. He's +foolin'." + +Marion looked at him curiously. He was the typical cow-puncher, in +blue flannel shirt and leather chaps, with the inevitable revolver +hanging loosely at his hip, and a long quirt suspended from his right +wrist. The dust on his face was stained with blood that had flowed +from a raw bruise on his temple, and Marion now noticed that his left +arm hung limp at his side. + +"You're hurt!" she said softly. + +The man turned, and stared at her blankly, and she saw that his face +was distorted into a set expression of pain. + +"Arm busted," he said, after a moment, as if surprised by her +question; and then renewed his watch. + +"How did it happen?" she asked. + +"Throwed me." + +"You don't mean you tried to ride him!" + +"Jerked me. Th' man ain't born't c'n ride 'im." + +"You were leading him?" + +"No, just thought I was," he said grimly. "He drug me." + +"When was that?" + +"This morning--about seven miles back." + +"Where did he come from?" + +"San Luis." + +"Where is that, please?" + +"Over yander," he answered, nodding toward the western mountains. + +Marion stared. + +"You haven't brought him over the mountains!" + +"'Round by Pinto Pass, an' up through the canyon." + +"I've never seen a horse like that before," she said, after a brief +silence. + +"Nor anybody else has," he replied, with a note of pride. + +"But he's no cow pony--surely." + +"You ain't never heard o' Sunnysides?" + +"No." + +He looked at her curiously. + +"Of course not," he said apologetically. "You're f'm the city. East, +maybe?" + +"Yes, I'm from New York." + +"Then it's natch'ral. Everybody in these parts has heard o' +Sunnysides, though it's not many that's seen him." + +"Please tell me about him." + +The man's eyes brightened a little. + +"He's got some strange blood in him," he began. "Nobody knows what it +is, but th' ain't another one o' that color, nor his devil spirit, in +the whole bunch. The rest of 'em's just ordinary wild horses runnin' +up an' down the sandhills of the San Luis. There's people't say he's a +ghost horse. Fact! An' they say't he'll never stay caught. I don't +know. It's certain't he's been caught three times,--not countin' the +times cow-punchers an' others has thought they'd caught him, but +hadn't. The first time he was caught actual he broke out o' the +strongest corral in the San Luis--at night--an' nobody sees hide nor +hair of 'im--not so much as a flicker o' yellow in the moonlight. An' +back he was, headin' the herd again. + +"Nex' time Thad Brinker ropes him. Thad's the topnotch cow-puncher +between the Black Hills an' the Rio Grande, an' he comes all the way +f'm Dakoty when he hears the yarn about Sunnysides. Thad gits +fourteen men to help him round up the bunch, an' then he ropes the +gold feller after a fight that's talked about yit in the San Luis. He +ropes him. An' then what does Brinker do?" + +He looked at Marion as if he dared her to make as many guesses as she +wished. She shook her head. + +"You ain't the only one that'd never hit it," he went on with +satisfaction. "Thad ropes him, an' while they lay there restin', +Sunnysides all tied up so he can't move, an' Brinker rubbin' some +bumps he'd come by in the fracas, just then the red comes up onto +Sangre de Cristo. Brinker sees it--Ever seen the sunset color on +Sangre de Cristo? No? That's a pity, Miss. Indeed, that's a pity. But +you're f'm Noo York, you said." + +He paused again, and Marion began to realize the full degree of her +provinciality and ignorance. She was from New York. What a pity! + +"Well," said the cowboy, as if resolved to do the best he could in the +circumstances, "sometimes--maybe three or four times a year--it's +weird. It's religious. The white peaks turn red as blood--that's why +they're called Sangre de Cristo. It's Spanish for Blood of Christ. It +makes you feel queer-like"--He paused a moment thoughtfully, watching +the golden horse as it stepped quietly, lightly, with head high, just +ahead of them. "The red comes onto Sangre de Cristo, an' Brinker sees +it. He looks at the blood on the peaks, an' then at the gold horse +lyin' there all torn an' dirty, an' this is what Brinker does, an' +maybe he couldn't help it. He ups an' cuts the ropes, an' Sunnysides's +off to his waitin' bunch, an' they all go snortin' down the valley." + +There was a touch of awe in the man's voice, and Marion felt a little +of it too. She looked toward the serrated barrier of mountains, in the +very middle of which stood old Thunder under his pall of cloud. Beyond +lay San Luis--Sangre de Cristo--and what romance! Would she ever--Her +eyes rested for a moment on the black pile that now, as always, +fascinated and yet disturbed her. + +"And you?" she said at length, turning to the cowboy. + +"There wasn't no red sunset this time," the man answered, with a grim +smile. "But we ain't slep' since," he added, with a return of +weariness. + +"You caught him?" she asked admiringly. + +"Us three." + +"But what are you doing with him here?" + +"He's sold, if we c'n find the man't offered a thousand for him a year +ago." + +"Who was he?" + +But she knew already. Some swift flash of intuition told her there was +but one man in Paradise Park who-- + +"His name's Haig, an' he's--" + +"Philip Haig!" she murmured. + +"You know him?" + +"Yes--no. That is, I've heard of him." + +It was on her lips,--the explanation that the men had passed the +branch road leading to Haig's ranch, that they were now riding away +from it. But she hesitated. And why? She did not know then; but an +hour later she would be reproaching herself bitterly for that moment's +indecision. The words were almost spoken, but something checked them; +and before she could make up her mind to follow her first natural +impulse it was too late. + +The leader of the party turned in his saddle, and called to the man at +Marion's side, who rode quickly forward and joined his companions. +There was a conversation inaudible to her ears, and while she still +pondered over her inexplicable hesitation the cowboys and the golden +horse, followed by Marion, approached the group of squat, unpainted +houses that bore without apology the name of Paradise. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +SETH HUNTINGTON'S OPPORTUNITY + + +It was Thursday, the one day of the week when Paradise needed no +apologist. For on Thursdays the stage arrived from Tellurium, bringing +the mail and, now and then, a passenger, and always a whiff of the +outside world. No resident of Paradise Park would willingly have +missed the arrival of the stage; and on this occasion fully two-thirds +of the male population, with nine-tenths of the female, had already +assembled. But the stage was not due for an hour or more. The women +bargained and gossiped in Thompson's store; the men, most of them, +were gathered around a stiff game of freeze-out in the Square Deal +Saloon; and only the score or more of saddle horses hitched in front +of the store, and the dozen or so of buckboards and road wagons parked +in the rear of it, showed that Paradise was in its weekly state of +mild and patient expectancy. + +So the three cow-punchers, the yellow horse, and Marion rode into +Paradise without being seen or heard, and halted in front of the +post-office. + +"Hal-lo! Hallo!" sang out the leader of the cowboys. And then, with +the petulance of one that is "all in": "Is this a dam' graveyard?" + +A thin man in his shirt sleeves, with a whisky glass in one hand and a +towel in the other, came to the door of the Square Deal Saloon. His +pallid face had the look of settled weariness that is characteristic +of keepers of such oases. Slavin had never, within the recollection of +the oldest frequenter of his establishment, betrayed the slightest +interest in anything. If there was a certain change in his expression +as he looked out between narrowed eyelids into the garish sunlight it +was one indicative of mild resentment at having been disturbed in his +methodic occupation behind the bar. He saw with neither interest nor +anticipation the three strangers, who ought to have had enough sense +to dismount and walk in if they wanted anything. + +"Well," he began in a drawling and sarcastic tone, "what--" + +It probably would have been a cautious and covered insult to the +presumed intelligence of the strangers, if he had finished the +question. But it died away on his thin lips. His fishy, blue eyes had +caught at last the gleam of Sunnysides, half in eclipse behind the +dull-hued cow ponies. For a few seconds he stared, while his mouth +stood open, and his features slowly responded to the first emotion he +had felt in years. + +"Hell's bobcats!" he yelled. + +The glass slipped from his hand, and fell tinkling in pieces on the +floor as he lunged out into the road. + +In the saloon there was a moment of tense silence as the men there +slowly realized that a phenomenon had occurred. Slavin was excited! +The silence was followed by a hubbub of raised voices and a racket of +overturned chairs and the scrape and thud of boots on the sanded +floor. At that instant a woman in a pink calico dress, drawn by +Slavin's yell, came to the door of Thompson's, and promptly screeched. +The poker game was never finished; Thompson's trade was ruined for +the day; and the strange group in the roadway became the center of a +jostling, uproarious crowd of men and women, who alternately bombarded +the three cow-punchers with questions and stared at Sunnysides in +silent wonder. But they were careful to maintain a respectful distance +between themselves and the formidable captive, though he stood +motionless amid all the uproar, like a golden statue of a horse, with +his head raised proudly, his yellow-black eyes flashing defiance and +suspicion, and his lustrous hide gleaming in the sun. + +Marion's enjoyment of this exciting scene was tinged with a vague +uneasiness. She had watched the men come tumbling out of the Square +Deal Saloon and the women swarming from Thompson's store, and had felt +a curious relief at seeing neither Seth nor Claire among them. +Though she could not have given any reason for her satisfaction, +their absence, and Seth's especially, seemed to her a piece of rare +good fortune. Haig's warning--"Tell him he's a fool to anger +me!"--was still echoing at the back of her brain; her recent act +of incomprehensible errancy still troubled and perplexed her; and +try as she would, she was unable to suppress the feeling that she had +become inextricably entangled in the feud between Haig and Huntington. +She was not yet ready to face Huntington. Thank Heaven, he was not +there! + +But at the very instant of her self-congratulation, and when she was +just turning her attention again to the hubbub around the golden +outlaw, her eye was suddenly caught, across the heads of the crowd, by +a figure that caused her to stiffen in the saddle. + +"Seth!" she gasped. + +He came striding rapidly from the direction of the blacksmith's, the +most distant of the group of buildings,--a large and heavy but +well-built man, whose black, short-cropped beard and bushy, +overhanging eyebrows gave him a somewhat truculent expression, which +was heightened by his rough and domineering demeanor. He was better +dressed, or more carefully at least, than any of the other men. He +wore a coat and trousers of dark-brown corduroy, a light-gray flannel +shirt with a flowing black tie, and a wide-brimmed Stetson hat. His +belt, under the unbuttoned coat, was of elaborately stamped leather, +with a pocket at one side from which a heavy, gold watch chain was +looped to a silver ring, and with an ornate holster at the other where +the black butt of a revolver was visible as he moved. + +He shouldered his way through the crowd in the heedless manner of most +bulky men, who seldom realize how much space they take that properly +belongs to others. At six feet from the golden horse he halted, and +surveyed him with shining eyes. + +"Sunnysides, eh?" he said, turning toward the nearest of the +strangers. + +"The's only one," replied the cow-puncher. + +"Who caught him this time?" + +"Us three. That's Jim Raley, with the busted arm. That other is Jud +Smith, My name's Larkin. We belong to the X bar O outfit on Lost +Soldier Creek." + +"Second outfit below Forty-Mile," said Huntington, familiarly. + +"Right!" + +"Sanders still foreman?" + +"Yes." + +"Then what are you doing with that horse up here?" + +The cow-puncher grinned. + +"I ketch your meanin'," he replied. "It's like this. Sanders chased +Sunnysides three seasons, an' thought he'd roped him. But all he gits +'s a cracked leg, an' not a yeller hair of the slippery beast. Then us +three takes on the job--not presumin' to be better'n Sanders, but +hopin' for luck. It comes our way, an' there you are. We offer him to +Sanders--for a price, natch'rally--but he says he don't believe in +ghosts, an' we c'n go to hell with him." + +"You must have missed the road. This is Paradise," said Huntington. + +The crowd roared its appreciation. + +"The' ain't much in names," observed Larkin testily. + +The crowd laughed again, though, of course, less heartily. + +"Well, Heaven or Hell," said Huntington, "is the horse for sale?" + +"He is--if he ain't sold already." + +"How's that?" + +"We're offered a price for him--if it still holds good. That's why +we've come to Paradise--an' no other reason, believe me!" + +"How much?" + +"Thousand." + +There was a stir in the crowd. + +"That's some price for a bronco," said Huntington, with an assumed +indifference. + +"It sure is--if you're talkin' about a _bronco_," retorted the +cow-puncher. + +There was a brief silence, in which all eyes were turned again upon +the golden horse, standing motionless but alert, as if keenly alive to +all that passed. The common ponies around him stamped, and champed +their bits, and moved restlessly in their places, but Sunnysides +remained calm and observant, with all the dignity and contempt of a +captive patrician in a crowd of yokels. + +Marion saw admiration and desire growing in Seth's eyes, and knew that +her foreboding had not been without reason. + +"And who's paying a thousand dollars for him?" asked Huntington. + +"Haig's his name, Philip Haig," answered Larkin. "Know him?" + +If Larkin had been a little nettled by the levity of the Paradisians +he now had his revenge, though much to his surprise, in the +extraordinary effect produced by his simple announcement. The smiles +faded from the faces assembled around him; significant glances were +exchanged; and there followed a silence so deep that the murmur of the +Brightwater could be heard quite clearly across the meadows. Then +there was a rustling movement in the crowd, and every face, as if by a +common impulse, or at a given signal, was turned toward Huntington. + +Marion was not sure of the feelings of the others, but there could be +no mistake in what she read in Huntington's black countenance. She was +not only frightened, but surprised and pained. For all his coarseness +and crudity, she had until to-day believed him to be innately gentle, +with only a rough and ungracious exterior. She had seen him always +tender with Claire, whom undoubtedly he loved with all the best there +was in him. But now she perceived the other side of his character, +which she had indeed divined at first, but which she had firmly, on +account of Claire, refused to acknowledge. An unworthy passion glowed +in his eyes; his features were distorted by an expression of mingled +cunning and hate; and his head somehow seemed to sink lower between +his shoulders as he leaned slightly forward, studying the face of the +cow-puncher. Then swiftly he took himself in hand, and masked his +passions under an air of careless badinage that was, for the moment, +suited to his purpose. + +"But I don't just understand," he drawled insinuatingly. "Haig hasn't +been away from the Park lately--unless he's gone an' come by night." + +A snicker or two, and one loud guffaw rewarded him for this insult to +his absent foe. But Marion felt the color rising to her cheeks. + +"It's a year ago he's seen him, 'way off, shinin' in the sun," +explained Larkin. "He stops at the X bar O, an' says he'll give a +thousand for him." + +"So that's all you've got to go on, is it?" sneered Huntington. + +"Yes," answered Larkin uneasily. + +"An' you think he'll make good, do you?" + +"If a man's word ain't good he don't stay in this country long, does +he?" + +"That's right--he won't stay long!" replied Huntington, with a savage +laugh. + +"You mean to say--" queried Larkin pointedly, leaning across the neck +of his pony, and looking keenly into Huntington's eyes. + +"Nothing," answered Huntington, lifting his huge shoulders. + +"That's sayin' a lot an' sayin' nothing," retorted Larkin. + +"You'll know more when you try to collect that thousand." + +"All right," responded Larkin, gathering up the reins as if to +terminate the interview. "Where's his place--if it ain't a secret?" + +"It's over beyond that ridge," said Huntington, pointing toward the +west. "You go back about three miles the way you came, an' there's a +branch road--" + +"Hell!" snorted the cowboy whose arm hung limp at his side. + +The three men exchanged glances. They were very weary; they had used +almost the last of their powers to bring the outlaw this far; and they +were plainly reluctant to undertake another tussle with the tireless +animal, now ready, without doubt, to renew his struggle for liberty. + +Huntington watched them narrowly. + +"I'm all in!" grumbled Raley. + +"You look it," said Huntington. Then he added lightly: "Still, you +ought to fetch up at Haig's place before morning." + +Marion felt disgust and resentment rising in her at this misrepresentation +of the distance to Haig's ranch. Whatever Haig had done, this was +cowardly and unfair. She looked eagerly at the other men, expecting to +hear some one correct the gross exaggeration. But the faces were all +blank, and no one spoke. + +Something like a groan escaped from the lips of the injured cowboy. He +looked as if he might tumble from the saddle at any instant. + +"Sure we can!" said Larkin doggedly. "Come, men! Let's move on." + +"Well, good luck!" said Huntington carelessly. And then, as if on +second thought: "But see here! You fellows look all right to me, and +if Haig's changed his mind, or hasn't got the cash handy, bring the +horse back here, and I'll talk business with you." + +"Talk business now!" Smith blurted out, averting his eyes from +Larkin. + +"Very well. I'll give you five hundred for him--if you don't want to +go any farther. He ain't worth it, but he's a kind of a curiosity, +and--" + +"That ain't talkin' business worth a dam'!" cried Larkin. "Come along, +men!" + +He turned his pony's head, and took a fresh grip on the halter that +held the prisoner. Smith moved also, though slowly, but Raley did not +budge. + +"I'm damned if I go any further!" he growled. + +Smith stopped, and looked uncertainly from Raley to Larkin, from +Larkin to Huntington, who was studying him craftily. + +"The five hundred isn't wind," said Huntington sneeringly. "It's over +there in Thompson's safe, if you want it." + +"We'll see Haig first," said Larkin, compressing his lips, and +speaking more to his companions than to Huntington. + +Smith shifted uneasily in his saddle, while Raley avoided Larkin's +eyes, and looked appealingly at Huntington. The ranchman, in his +turn, took a sidelong glance, furtive and questioning, at the faces of +his neighbors. The moment was critical, and much more was involved in +the crisis than the possession of the golden outlaw. For a long time +Huntington had assumed a certain leadership in the Park, but it had +not always been unquestioned. His qualifications for leadership were +not as apparent to all his neighbors as they were to himself, and +there were some who even resented his pretensions. Nevertheless he +had, in a way, succeeded; and he had been permitted to represent the +entire valley as far as he liked in the war with Philip Haig. One and +all, indeed, regarded Haig as an intruder; many of them had more than +once threatened violence against him; and there was not among them one +whom Haig, if he had wanted a defender, could have counted on. Yet, +for all that, Huntington was practically alone in the depth of his +hatred and the violence of his methods. If Haig had no friends in the +Park, he had only a few, perhaps no more than two or three, inveterate +enemies, of whom Huntington was the active representative. + +Huntington now saw in the faces of the men around him that they were +doubtful of him, and that the time was opportune to turn their +passivity into energetic support of his plans. Moreover, he had +already "put his foot in it," had gone too far to withdraw without +discredit. Having openly insulted the absent enemy, and having clearly +revealed his intention to cheat him of this prize, to weaken now would +be to abandon forever all hope of ascendency. For an instant he +regretted what he had done, and cursed himself under his breath. +Then, taking a new grip on himself, he returned to the attack. + +"Seven hundred and fifty, then!" he said with a swagger. "And it's +cash, not words." + +There was a moment of suspense. The three men, who were moving slowly +away, turned in their saddles. Not a muscle quivered, not a foot +stirred in the expectant crowd. Marion felt that in another minute she +would cry out, shrieking at Seth, shrieking the warning Haig had sent +by her. + +"That's good enough, for me!" declared Raley, throwing the reins over +his pony's head, and preparing painfully to dismount. + +"No, Jim!" cried Smith. "Let him say a thousand, an' I'm with you. +'Tain't exactly on the square, but the's no use killin' ourselves +for--" + +His speech was cut short by a shrill cry from a woman who stood on a +horse block at the outer edge of the crowd. + +"Look! Look!" she called, pointing a finger toward the long white +road. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE HIGHEST BIDDER + + +Far up the road appeared a little cloud of dust with a black speck in +its center. + +A murmur ran through the crowd; a name was passed from mouth to mouth; +and the men nearest Huntington began to edge away instinctively, +leaving a larger and larger space clear around him and the three +cow-punchers. + +Marion too looked, and understood. She had not dismounted, but still +sat her pony within ten feet of the outlaw, at the side of the +roadway, in about the middle of which stood Huntington. With an effort +she drew her eyes away from that ominous black spot in the distance, +and turned toward Seth. A shiver ran through her body, but her cheeks +burned, and there was a voice in her ears that shouted, "Tell him he's +a fool to anger me!" For a moment she was on the point of rushing upon +Seth, and shrieking that warning into his face. But now it was too +late. + +Like all the others Huntington stood for a few seconds fascinated by +that figure in the puff of dust. And for just those few seconds there +was a certain unsteadiness in his attitude, irresolution in the black +eyes beneath their bushy brows. But the blue-whiteness under the dark +beard was not the pallor of fear, so called. Seth Huntington was as +incapable of physical cowardice as he was of moral courage. He was not +afraid of Philip Haig, but he was dreadfully afraid of being thought +afraid of him. There was yet time to avoid a clash with Haig, to +withdraw from an undertaking in which he knew he was wholly in the +wrong. But he was not equal to that test of character. He would sooner +tackle all the Haigs in Christendom than face the derision of his +neighbors, whom he had assiduously taught to expect great things of +him on the first occasion. Here was the occasion; he had seized it, +blinded by passion; and there was no way for him now but to see it +through. He straightened up, and faced the three cow-punchers. + +"All right!" he cried defiantly. "It's a thousand." + +But the three had heard the name murmured by the crowd, had seen the +distant horseman. Larkin was plainly elated. Raley and Smith, as +plainly abashed, looked this way and that, avoiding the eyes of their +leader, and every other eye as well. Huntington, seeing the game about +to slip from his hands, whirled on his heel and looked swiftly toward +the store. + +"Thompson!" he yelled. + +"Here!" was the answer, as a small, gray-bearded man in shirt sleeves +advanced a step or two from the door. + +"Fetch me that roll from your safe, will you?" + +"Right!" + +As Thompson disappeared within the store, Huntington turned again +toward the cowboys. + +"A thousand dollars--cash!" he repeated. + +Larkin leaned forward on his horse, and looked at him shrewdly. + +"Seems to me it's not the horse you're after so much as him," he said, +with a grin and a nod toward the road. + +"That's as may be," retorted Huntington. "Money talks." + +"An' it says mighty funny things sometimes," replied Larkin, who now +made no concealment of his dislike of Huntington and his "game." + +"We'll see!" cried Huntington angrily. "How does twelve hundred sound +to you two?" + +He looked steadily at Raley and Smith, who exchanged glances. + +"What's your awful hurry?" Larkin demanded, in a drawling tone, but +with an anxious eye for the galloping figure now in plain view. "We'll +give Haig a chance to bid--eh, men?" + +Smith shot an angry but uneasy look at the leader. Huntington saw it, +and guessed that there was more than weariness and greed in the +willingness of Smith and Raley to combine against Larkin. Probably, he +thought, there had been differences of opinion, disputes even, on the +road to Paradise. He turned impatiently toward the store. + +At that instant Thompson ran out, broke through the ring of men, and +handed a roll of "yellowbacks" to Huntington, who hurriedly peeled off +several of the bills, and thrust them at arm's length toward the +wavering cow-punchers. + +"Haig talked about a thousand dollars!" he cried. "There's fifteen +hundred. Do you want it?" + +For a moment it was heads or tails. Even Larkin eyed the money +hungrily. Then his teeth clicked together, and he turned upon his +partners, whose faces showed plainly the answer that was upon their +lips. + +"An' what'll you say to _him_?" he demanded. + +"Eighteen hundred!" shouted Huntington. + +"That's good enough for me!" cried Raley. "Say it, Jud!" + +There was a distant thunder of hoofs as Haig's horse took the short +bridge over the Brightwater. The crowd backed still farther away from +Huntington, who was again fingering his roll of bills. + +"Two thousand!" he roared, shaking the handful of "yellowbacks" at the +wavering Smith. + +Raley leaned from his saddle, and grabbed Smith's arm. + +"Quick, Jud!" he pleaded hotly. "Don't be a fool!" + +"All right! We'll take it!" answered Smith. + +"No!" said Larkin firmly, pulling his horse around between Huntington +and the two partners. + +"Yes!" the two cried out together. + +Huntington stepped forward, and thrust both handfuls of bills almost +into Larkin's face. + +"Name your price then!" he bellowed. + +Larkin looked at the money,--smelt it,--as he said afterwards, grimly +confessing his weakness at the sight of more than he could save in +years of riding the range and branding mavericks. If there had been +ten seconds more-- + +Haig galloped into the crowd, which gave him plenty of room, and +reined up his pony just in front of the golden outlaw. For some +instants he saw only the horse; and his eyes kindled. Then he faced +the cowboys and Huntington. + +They were fixed in almost the very attitudes in which he had come upon +them. Huntington's outstretched hands had indeed fallen to his side, +but they still clutched the crumpled bills. Raley's blood-stained face +was purple with anger and chagrin, while Smith's wore a sullen, +hangdog look. As for Larkin, he met Haig's questioning scrutiny with a +look of mingled triumph and guilt. + +"Well, why don't you go on?" asked Haig, with a smile. + +There was no response. The silence was again so complete that the +music of the Brightwater was heard across the meadows. + +Haig slowly swept the crowd with an inquiring glance. All these men +were hostile toward him, of course; but how far would they support +Huntington? No matter! He swung himself suddenly out of the saddle, +and addressed himself to the leader of the cowboys. + +"You're Larkin, aren't you?" he said. + +"Yes," answered the embarrassed cow-puncher. + +"And the others are Smith and--" + +"Raley," prompted Larkin. + +"And here, of course, is my good friend Huntington, looking like +Fortune with both hands full." + +Several men in the crowd laughed, whereupon Huntington, who had +evidently forgotten the money, made matters worse for himself by +hastily and clumsily thrusting it into the pockets of his coat, while +his face flushed angrily. + +"That's right, Cousin Seth," Haig said lightly. "You may need it." + +Marion, at these words, quivered with alarm. Was he going to tell +Huntington, there in that crowd, of the incident in the pasture? His +next speech, however, reassured her. + +"Now, Larkin," he said, "let's understand things. That's my horse, +isn't it?" + +"That's what I've been sayin' some time back," answered Larkin, in a +tone of relief. + +"And you, Smith?" + +"I suppose so," was the sullen reply. + +"And Raley?" + +"No, it ain't!" answered that one with a sudden flare-up of courage. + +"Then whose horse is it?" + +"It belongs to Larkin an' Smith an' me." + +"Of course. But why did you bring him to Paradise Park?" + +"To sell him." + +"To whom, please?" + +Raley, caught in the trap, looked appealingly toward Smith, but got no +help from him. + +"To whom?" repeated Haig sharply. + +"To you--if you wanted him!" Raley blurted out at last. + +"If I wanted him!" retorted Haig ironically. "I bargained for him with +you, didn't I?" + +"Yes," growled Raley. + +"And you went and caught him _for me_?" + +"Yes." + +"And you brought him to Paradise Park _for me_?" + +"Yes." + +"Very well. Don't be downhearted!" he said cheerfully. "A good name is +more to be desired than great riches. Isn't that so, Cousin Seth?" + +The ranchman's face flamed. + +"If you've got anything to say to me, say it quick!" he jerked out. + +"I have several things to say to you, one at a time," replied Haig +smoothly. "To begin with, these men told you the horse was mine, +didn't they?" + +"No, they didn't. They said you'd offered a thousand dollars for +him." + +Haig laughed. + +"All right, if that suits you better! They told you they had brought +him here to deliver him to me for a thousand dollars, and you thought +it would be a fine joke to buy him yourself. Is that it?" + +Huntington did not respond to this, but watched Haig narrowly, a +little puzzled by his manner. + +"How much did he offer you?" Haig asked Larkin. + +"Two thousand dollars--and then he said name our price." + +Haig whistled. + +"Well, I'm damned if you haven't got some sporting blood in you!" he +said, smiling at Huntington. "How much was in your roll?" + +Huntington's first impulse was to tell Haig that it was none of his +business. But he was deceived by Haig's manner, having expected his +enemy to fall upon him like a thunderbolt. His surprise was shared, +indeed, by most of the men, who had expected gun-play on the jump. +Only Marion, sitting still and watchful on her pony, was not misled. +She felt that Haig was playing with Huntington, and biding his time. + +Huntington's vanity completed his self-delusion. + +"Four thousand, two hundred dollars" he replied boastfully, glancing +around at his neighbors. + +"Whew!" uttered Haig, between pursed lips. Then to Larkin: "You were +hard pressed, weren't you? But never mind, boys, I'll do better than I +promised--and charge it up to Cousin Seth." + +Another laugh flickered around the crowd. It was evident that there +was no great objection to seeing Huntington baited. + +"My name's Huntington!" he snorted. "What's this damned cousin +business, anyhow?" + +Haig raised his eyebrows. + +"Does it annoy you?" he asked, in a tone of exaggerated politeness. + +Huntington merely glared. He was one of those self-made wits who enjoy +their own jokes immensely but grumble at plucking barbed shafts out of +their own skins. He began to wish for the thunderbolt. + +"But it's your own fault, you know," Haig added. + +"What in hell are you talking about?" Huntington growled. + +"I'm talking about your last visit to my ranch." + +"My last--What do you mean, damn you!" the ranchman thundered, his +right hand moving to his belt. + +There was a hurried movement among those of the crowd who, absorbed in +the dialogue, had half-consciously crept nearer. But Haig appeared to +have noticed neither Huntington's motion nor the backing away of the +spectators. + +"And wouldn't it have been reckless extravagance to pay good money for +Sunnysides when you might just have come and taken him out of my +corrals?" + +For a few seconds Huntington, as if he could scarce believe that he +heard aright, was speechless with amazement and rage. + +"Say it, damn you!" he said chokingly. "What do you mean?" + +"Don't get so excited, or you may break a blood vessel, Cous--I beg +your pardon, _Mister_ Huntington." + +"Say it!" roared the ranchman. + +Then Haig dropped his mask. + +"I will say it," he began in a voice that rang ominously. "I'll say it +so that even you cannot fail to understand me. I mean that I'm tired +of your threats and persecutions. I mean that you have harassed me and +my men at every opportunity. I mean that you drove that bunch of my +cattle off the cliff last September. I mean that within twenty-four +hours another fence has been cut, and that you know who did it. I mean +that your attempt to buy my horse was only another of the contemptible +and cowardly tricks you have played on me. I mean, Huntington, that +you are a bully, a liar and a thief!" + +Huntington's hand had slipped to the butt of his revolver at the +beginning of this intolerable speech; but he had waited, as if +fascinated, as if unable to move under the torrent of denunciation. +Then to the onlookers it appeared that the bold young man, who had not +yet made the slightest motion toward his own weapon, would be slain in +his tracks. But Haig was as much the quicker in action as he was the +nimbler in wit. + +The two revolvers cracked, it seemed, as one, but with very different +results. Haig's battered old hat, lifted as if by a sudden gust of +wind, slid from his head, and fell to the ground with a bullet hole +through it. But Huntington threw up his hands, pitched forward, and +fell in a heap in the dusty road. + +There was a single shrill, short-cut shriek as a woman near the door +of the post-office slipped down in a faint; and then a chorus of +quavering cries as other women clutched the arms of the men nearest +them. + +Marion swayed in her saddle, her head drooping on her breast. A young +cowboy darted from the crowd, and grabbed her as she fell. He started +to lift and carry her away, but, with a desperate effort, she +recovered, and stood erect, trying to thrust him from her. He held her +nevertheless, supporting her with an arm under one of hers. + +Haig had quickly turned and faced the group of men at the left of the +road. + +"Is there anybody else here that wants to buy my horse?" he demanded +coolly. + +There was no response, no movement. He whirled, and confronted the +silent row of men on the other side. + +"Is there anybody else here who thinks he can drive me out of Paradise +Park?" + +Still no one replied; and Haig, with a shrug, thrust his revolver back +in its holster. + +"Thompson!" he called out. + +"Here!" was the answer, in the same tone of readiness with which he +had responded to Huntington. By keeping his mouth shut, and never +taking sides in any of the occasional disagreements and disputes that +enlivened the tedium of life in that community, Thompson had +established a reputation for neutrality and trustworthiness, and was +permitted to be everybody's friend. + +"Look after Huntington, please!" said Haig. "He's not badly +hit--you'll find the bullet under the left shoulder blade. It'll do +him good." + +Thompson and some others lifted Huntington, and carried him into the +store; and at that moment the stage, its approach unnoticed, rattled +up, and stopped with shrieking brakes and creaking harness. There was +a sudden outbreak of speech on all sides, as if the tension had been +relaxed by the recurrence of a familiar and orderly event. In the +confusion Haig turned toward Sunnysides and the three cow-punchers. + +"Now, Larkin," he began briskly, "we'll finish this business, and +then--" + +He stopped short, and stared. + +By the side of the golden horse stood Marion. Still shocked and +bewildered, yet strangely thrilled, she had stretched out one +trembling arm, and rested her hand on the neck of the wild creature, +from which every other person in the crowd around--and she too in her +right senses--had kept away, in full appreciation of his reputation. +Whether it was that the outlaw had for the time given up all notion of +resistance and hostility, or that he felt the difference between the +girl's gentle touch and the rough handling he had undergone, he did +not stir. But this docility, this understanding, was only a part of +the sight that brought Haig to a standstill. + +He had left many things behind him, but there was one thing he had not +been, able to destroy as he would have destroyed it, root and branch +and flower. He would always have a weakness--he called it that--for +beauty in whatever form it appeared to him. Sunsets and twilights, the +shadows of trees in still waters, flowers and reeds, old ruins in the +moonlight, sometimes even faces moved him until he was ashamed, and +berated himself for a sentimental weakling. And now-- + +The girl was tawny as a leopard. Her hair was almost exactly the color +of the outlaw's dull yellow mane, but finer, of course, and softer; +and her complexion--he wondered that he had not noticed it before--had +a peculiar richness and brilliancy that seemed to reflect the luster +of Sunnysides' golden hide. They stood there entrancing his artist-eye +with their perfect harmony of line and color; and the last thin rays +of the setting sun bathed horse and girl in a golden light--an +atmosphere in which they glowed like one of Titian's mellowed +canvases. + +"Don't move, please!" he exclaimed. + +But Marion did not hear, or did not heed. She dropped her hand, and +glided toward him, while he watched her, curious and rapt. Perhaps it +was because he saw her through that golden glow, perhaps because his +nerves were a little unsteady in the reaction from the strain they had +undergone, that she made a singular appeal to his imagination. He +fancied that for all the fineness of her figure, the exquisite poise +of her small head, the cameo-like delicacy of her face, there was +something in her as wild, untamed, and elemental as the heart of +Sunnysides. + +Thus she moved slowly past him, and passing gave him a long and steady +look, with an unfathomable expression in her eyes,--an expression +neither of anger nor of bitterness nor of disgust nor of anything he +might have expected after all he had done that day. He turned, and +watched her until she had disappeared in the crowd around the +stagecoach; and with her went out the last rays of the sun. + +"Well, I'll be damned!" said Philip Haig. + +With a shake of his shoulders, as if to throw off some unwelcome +weight upon them, he turned again to take up his business with the +gaping cow-punchers. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +"HE SHALL TELL ME!" + + +Doctor Wilson, arriving from Tellurium on the third day after the +encounter at Paradise, found Huntington in a bad way, due not so much +to the wound in his left shoulder as to the state of his mind. Haig's +bullet was extracted without difficulty or serious complications, but +Haig's words were encysted too deep for any probe. Huntington's +self-love had been dealt a mortal blow; and somebody must pay for it. + +First of all it was Claire that paid; then Marion. He did not mean to +be disagreeable to them, but never having cultivated self-restraint he +had none of it now to ease the days of his convalescence. He filled +the house with his clamor, and required as much attention as an ailing +child. There were just two ways to keep him quiet. Claire soothed him +when she sat at his bedside, with one of his huge "paws" held in her +tiny hands; and Marion found, somewhat to her surprise, that Seth +liked music. The piano was one of the wonders of the Huntington house, +for pianos are not essential instruments in the equipment of cattle +ranches, and this was the only one in all that region of cattledom. + +In music Seth's tastes were sentimental. "Lost Chords" and "Rosaries" +subdued him almost to tears; and if Marion only brought him tuneful +violets every morn he tried his best to be good. So when Claire was +not on duty at the bedside Marion must needs be on duty at the +piano,--an ordeal that Claire endured, of course, more patiently than +Marion. + +Claire was almost comically unfit to be a ranchman's wife, and she too +had been a trial on occasions. She was small and delicate, but +vivacious, amiable, bright. Her blue eyes always had a childlike +wonder in them, and she was fond of wearing her fluffy, golden hair in +a girlish knot low on her neck, or even in a long, thick braid down +her back, with a blue ribbon bow at the end. She flitted about the +house like a butterfly, and yet she had managed somehow to make her +home the marvel of Paradise Park. + +To begin with it was the ordinary, one-story, rambling house of pine, +with spruce-clad hills rising behind it, and a little stream, +rollicking down between it and the corrals. But a wide veranda had +been constructed on three sides of it, furnished with wicker chairs, +and half-screened with boxes of growing flowers. All around the house +flowers grew,--old-fashioned garden flowers, roses and geraniums; beds +of them everywhere, and blossoming shrubs along the stream. + +The house contained, besides the kitchen and the bedrooms, just one +big room. This, with its low ceiling, unpainted timbers, and small +windows, was not unlike the hall of some old manor house. The floor +was covered with Navajo rugs in rich and barbaric colors; the walls +were draped with burlap in dull red dyes; and the windows were +curtained with chintz in bright yellows and reds. Above the windows +and doors hung many heads of deer and elk and mountain sheep, and +rifles on racks of horn. Between the two front windows stood the +upright piano, and near it a small bookcase filled with novels and +volumes of poetry. The big oak table at mealtime was made to look very +inviting with white napery and modest china and silver, and a bouquet +always in its center. At other times it was a library table, heaped +with books and magazines, and in the evening, when the kerosene lamps +were lighted, and the piñon was blazing in the great fireplace, the +room seemed as remote from Paradise Park as Claire herself. + +There was an occasional visitor at Huntington's in the period of his +convalescence, usually a ranchwife eager for another glimpse at +Claire's wonderful housekeeping, or a young cow-puncher drawn by the +attraction of two very pretty and unusual women in one house. But the +ranchmen themselves, with two or three exceptions, were content to be +solicitous at long range--an abstention that relieved and at the same +time troubled Huntington. He was not eager to talk with his neighbors +about that episode at the post-office, but their aloofness filled him +with uneasiness. Well, let them wait! They would hear from him again, +and so should Haig! + +There was, among the visitors, one whose coming perceptibly lightened +the tedium of those days. Marion had the good fortune to see him in +time not to be taken by surprise. Seated on the veranda after an +exhausting recital for the benefit of Huntington, she perceived the +figure of a horseman--yes, it was a horseman--riding out of the pines +toward the corrals. She stared. He was so little and so lost between +his pony, which seemed extraordinarily big, and his sombrero, which +undoubtedly was enormous, that she remained for a moment dumb, and +then, choking with laughter, fled into the house. + +"Look, Claire, look!" she cried, grabbing her cousin's arm. + +Claire, dragged to the door, looked and giggled. + +"Haven't you seen that before?" she asked. + +"No! Never!" answered Marion, her hand upon her mouth. + +"Of course. He's just arrived--for the season. He was here last year, +and the year before." + +"And they let him?" demanded Marion, thinking of the irrepressible +cow-punchers. + +"Oh, he's all right!" Claire assured her. "That is, after you get used +to him. The men had all sorts of fun with him the first summer he was +here. But he took all their fun good-naturedly, and showed them he had +pluck too. They began to like him. Everybody likes him, and so will +you." + +"But in the name of--who is he?" + +The little man had descended like a parachute from his pony, and was +now bobbing rapidly up the graveled walk. + +"Smythe," explained Claire hurriedly. "But he's here now--I'll let him +tell you--he likes to talk." + +At the foot of the steps he caught sight of the two women in the +doorway; removed his wonderful headgear with an eighteenth-century +gesture; ducked his head in a twentieth-century bow; and smiled. +Claire stepped quickly out on the veranda. + +"Oh, Mr. Smythe!" she cried gaily. "I'm so glad to see you. Come in!" + +He was an undersized young man, immaculately dressed in brown tweeds +and shining boots, a very high white collar and a sky-blue tie. The +sombrero swinging in his hand was quite new, ornamented with a broad +band of stamped leather, and it had the widest brim obtainable at the +shop in Denver where a specialty is made of equipping the tenderfoot +for life in the cattle country. + +Smythe took Claire's proffered hand, and bent over it as if he had +thought of kissing it, but lacked the courage of his gallantry. Claire +introduced him to Marion, answered his questions about Seth, and then +fluttered away to the kitchen, where she had an angel cake in the oven +not to be entrusted to the cook. + +"I arrived only yesterday, Miss Gaylord," Smythe chirped. "But I've +heard of you already." + +"I don't know whether to thank you or not," answered Marion. + +"Oh, if you please! What I heard made me very solicitous about +Huntington's health." + +He smiled knowingly at her, and Marion loosed some of her pent-up +laughter. Truly, Smythe was going to be a treat! She studied him +stealthily while he chattered on. He wore a pointed beard of reddish +hue; his head was quite bald on top, and bulging at the brow; and the +contour of that head, with its polished dome, and the narrow face +tapering down to the pointed beard, was comically suggestive of a +carrot. But it was an intelligent, even intellectual countenance, and +his blue eyes were honest and bright. He might be laughed at, but he +could not be flouted, she thought. + +"Then you've been here before, Mr. ----" she began, and hesitated. + +"Smythe," he prompted her generously. "J. Hamerton Smythe. S-m-y-t-h-e. +I didn't change it from Smith, and I don't know what one of my +esteemed ancestors did. But I'm glad he did. It gives me a touch of +artificiality, don't you think? I fear being too natural." + +Marion laughed, and that pleased him. She led the way to chairs near +an open window where a black and yellow butterfly hovered over a +honeysuckle blossom that had nodded its friendly way into the room. + +"I'm from New York too," Smythe rattled on. "Columbia. Doing a little +tutoring and a little postgraduate work. This is my third summer in +the Park. Found it by chance. Wanted to go somewhere, and was tired of +the old places--Maine and Adirondacks and the rest. Looked at a map in +a railroad office, and there it was, sticking right out at me, the +first name I lighted on. In small type too--curious, wasn't it? Clerks +in office hadn't heard of it, but I started out to find it. Thought +I'd better get to Paradise when I could. And now I'm glad. I feel like +an old settler, and I believe the cow-punchers have ceased to regard +me as a tenderfoot. That's as flattering as a Ph.D." + +"I'm afraid they laugh at me," said Marion. + +"On the contrary. Believe me, these cowboys have taken to reading +poetry since you came." + +"Please be natural, Mr. Smythe!" + +"Fact! I'd hardly got my things unpacked before one of them was +riding over to ask me if I had a book about Lady Clara Vere de Vere. +It seems he'd heard the poem recited somewhere. I asked him why he +wanted it, but he looked so flustered that I let him off. Didn't have +a Tennyson with me, unfortunately, but I gave him my Byron, and I +think that will hold him for a while." + +"Charming!" exclaimed Marion. "But what has all that to do with me?" + +"He's the chap that grabbed you in his arms when you were falling from +your horse after that little business at Thompson's the other day." + +Marion blushed, and then laughed. + +"But how did you come to hear about that?" she demanded. + +He chuckled. + +"Oh, I hear everything!" he replied. "My friends say I've a nose for +news." + +"Well, I shall be very careful what I say to you." + +"Please, no!" he protested. "I'm a safety vault when it comes to +secrets." + +She glanced quickly toward the door of Seth's bedroom, then toward the +kitchen, before she spoke. + +"So you've heard all about that day at the post-office?" she said in a +low voice. + +"Yes." + +"Terrible!" + +"But not unexpected." + +"Why not unexpected?" + +"Well," he replied, lowering his voice, and leaning nearer to Marion, +"I'm afraid Huntington was looking for it." + +"You mean--he deserved it?" + +"I won't say that. You see--I'm neutral, like Thompson. I like +Huntington, and I like Haig. I look at this fight without prejudice, +even though I've a reason to be prejudiced." + +"In favor of--?" + +"Huntington." + +"Why, please?" + +"Huntington accepts my friendship, after a fashion." + +"But--the other?" + +"Nothing doing!" + +Marion stared at him, wondering. + +"Fact!" he assured her, with a sheepish smile. + +"But why?" + +"Don't know. I'd like to, but he lives like a hermit. Latchstring +never hangs outside his door." + +There was a certain evidence of feeling in Smythe's speech. + +"You speak as if you--" + +"As if I knew!" He took the words out of her mouth. "I do." + +"How do you know?" + +"I tried it." + +"And then?" + +"Kicked out!" he replied with a grimace. + +Marion laughed in spite of her burning eagerness to hear more. + +"Not exactly kicked," Smythe explained. "But I'd rather have been. He +was as polite as--he's a gentleman, you see, so he knew how to do it +without using his hands or his feet." + +"But why?" insisted Marion. + +"Why did I try? Curiosity. Simple, elemental, irresponsible +curiosity." + +She laughed again at his frank confession. + +"No, I mean why did he kick you out, as you call it?" + +"That's what I want to know. And I will know, too. I tell you, Miss +Gaylord, I admire the man immensely. His secretiveness only makes me +like him the more, probably because I myself am so garrulous. Most +persons, though, cannot tolerate a man who minds his own business. +Those who have no reason to hate Haig dislike him because he does not +ask them to like him. His affairs are his own. Did you notice that +scar?" + +"Yes," answered Marion, scarcely above a whisper. + +"Well, you can build any sort of romance you like around that. He has +had his romance or tragedy or something, you may be sure. But he's no +ordinary man, whatever he may be doing in Paradise Park. I have heard +that he's surrounded with books and pictures in his cottage. He's got +a Chinaman for a valet, and an Indian for his man Friday, and their +mouths are as tight as his. What's more, he must be all right in the +main things, for his foreman and cowboys stick to him through thick +and thin, and say nothing. I tell you, Miss Gaylord, I'd like to be a +friend of his, if only he gave a--" + +"A damn, I believe they say," she prompted demurely. + +"By Jove!" he said with enthusiasm. "You are a--" + +She held up a warning finger. + +"We're going to be friends, you know," she said. "And friends +understand each other--without words." + +"Done!" he agreed, reaching for her hand, and shaking it. + +"But this mystery," she said. "Doesn't anybody know--" + +"You know as much as all of us. Of course," he added banteringly, +"there's no denying a woman, when she starts. He might tell you!" + +The speech startled her, and she blushed. + +"Now, that's sheer impudence!" she retorted. + +But he continued to look at her with a curious expression. How much +had he guessed? In her confusion an impulse seized her. She leaned +suddenly toward him, with flushed face and sparkling eyes. + +"You dare me?" she demanded, her voice quivering. + +"I dare you!" he answered gleefully. + +"Well then, he shall tell me!" + +"Good!" he exclaimed. "And I'll be around to take the kicks if he--" + +"Oh, Cousin Seth!" cried Marion, leaping to her feet. + +The bedroom door had opened, and Huntington came out, dressed in his +familiar corduroy suit, but with his left arm still bandaged to his +side, Smythe hastened forward to greet him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE STORY OF THE SCAR + + +She was awakened by the shrill chatter of the magpies in the tall pine +near her window. Often she had resented their quarrelsome dialogue at +dawn, but now she slipped eagerly out of bed, and hurried to the +window. There had been rain in the night, but when she had pulled +apart the chintz curtains and opened the wooden shutters the air was +sweet and clean in her face, and the thin light showed the world +rising joyously to the day. + +She dressed hastily in her oldest clothes, stole on tiptoe to the +kitchen for a biscuit and a glass of milk, found fishing tackle on the +veranda, and was soon running breathlessly past the corrals toward the +banks of the Brightwater. And all this was a deliberate deception. She +purposed to fish, of course--a little, to justify the clandestine +expedition; but what she really sought was solitude. + +It was half in jest that she had said to Smythe, "He shall tell me!" +But in the night, by some strange alchemy, that jest had been +transmuted into a purpose of which she was still doubtful, if not +afraid. And yet to go forward seemed less difficult than to go back. +For she had let the days of Seth's recovery and convalescence slip by +without telling Claire of her experience in the Forbidden Pasture and +on the road to Paradise. The duel at the post-office, she argued, +surely had made it unnecessary to warn Huntington of Haig's anger. And +yet, as their guest, as Claire's cousin--But had they been quite fair +to her? They had not warned her of the hostility across the Ridge; +they had let her go blundering into the Forbidden Pasture; not that it +mattered so much, though it might have been worse-- + +Her thoughts were becoming very much confused. She had permitted a man +to treat her most offensively, and she had seen him shoot down another +without compunction; and that other was her cousin, in whose house she +was a guest. And yet she felt no resentment, no detestation, no +censure, no rebuke. Instead, here she was running away to think out a +plan whereby she might hear the whole story of the feud, and more, +from Haig himself. + +The morning advanced in rose and pearl nuances. A hundred tantalizing +perfumes filled the air; field-spiders' webs sparkled in the dew like +silver gossamer; meadow larks rose at her feet, and wove delicate +patterns in the air with threads of melody. Who could think amid such +diverting beauty? She lifted her head, and went singing through the +meadows, knee-deep in the wet and clinging grass, and laughing when +the parted branches of the willows splashed her face and drenched her. +And then, at the first cast she made into a still, deep pool, where +the night loitered under the very eye of day, an imprudent trout took +the gray hackle fly, and made off with it. The splash, and the "zip" +of the tightening line through the water; and then the fight, and the +capture--Well, if they were going to rise like that-- + +The sun was high before she became aware that she was very hot and +tired and hungry. Her shoes were soaking wet, her skirts and stockings +splashed with mud; one shoulder was being sunburned where a twig had +caught and ripped her white flannel waist; and Seth's red silk +handkerchief around her neck was scarcely a deeper crimson than her +face. + +"But I can't catch them all in one day!" she exclaimed reluctantly, +leaning wearily against a tree. + +At that instant, under her very eyes, a trout leaped in the nearby +pool. + +"Impudence!" she cried. "I'll just get you, and then quit." + +But it was one pool too many; for at the second cast her hook caught +in the rough bark of a log that projected far out into the stream. + +"Oh! Now I've done it!" she groaned. + +Several smart tugs at the line, with a whipping of the rod to right +and left of the log, convinced her that the hook was too deeply +embedded to be released by any such operation. Sinking down on a heap +of driftwood on the bank, she gloomily contemplated the consequences +of her greed. There were two ways to go about it now,--to break the +line and leave the hook to its fate, or to crawl out on the log and +rescue it. The first was unsportsmanlike, the second was very likely +to be dangerous. + +"Um-m-m!" she muttered, with a grimace. "It's not easy." + +The log ran out, at a slight inclination upward, from the center of +the heap of driftwood, and its free end, where the hackle fly reposed +at a distance of fully twenty feet from the bank, was suspended barely +two feet above the middle of the pool. She leaned forward, and gazed +into its dark depths, which appeared to be scarcely stirred by the +current, though five yards away the stream was making a merry racket +over the shallows. + +She stood up, and looked around her. Through the screen of willows and +cottonwoods on each sloping bank she saw the meadows lying green and +silent in the sun. There was no sound except the prattle of the +Brightwater and the murmur of the breeze in the foliage. She assured +herself that she was quite alone. + +Next she folded and pinned up her skirt so that it hung just to her +knees, and after a final glance in all directions, stepped cautiously +out to the edge of the driftwood, knelt down on the fallen trunk, and +began to creep warily out toward the embedded hook. The log was round, +and none too large; her knees, protected only by thin stockings, were +bruised by the rough and partly-loosened bark; and she scarcely dared +to breathe lest she should lose her balance, and tumble into the +yawning pool. Once she incautiously looked down, and saw her image +waving dizzily on the slow-moving surface of the water. + +"Oh!" she gasped, as she drew back her gaze, and dug her nails into +the log. + +But for all her fears, and because of them, it was tremendously +exciting, and she became deeply absorbed in her task. Now clinging +close to the log in sudden panic, now laughing tremulously at her +trepidation, she forgot everything except her goal, and the inches by +which she was approaching it. She had arrived within two feet of the +hook, and was just about to reach a trembling hand to detach it, when +she received a shock that was near to ending her expedition in an +ignominious splash. + +"Wait!" called out a voice, somewhere behind her. "I'll help you!" + +The fright first nearly caused her to lose her grip on the log, and +then left her cold and shivering. After that a wave of heat swept over +her, and the blood tingled in her flushed and perspiring face. + +Who was it? Philip Haig, by all the ill luck in the world? Who else +could have had the effrontery? She dared not turn to look, both in +fear of falling, and in shame at being caught in that absurd +predicament. What a sight! she thought. Her skirt was above her knees, +and one stocking, caught by a projection of bark, had slipped down to +her ankle. And that was not all!... With a desperate effort, she +lifted one hand from its hold on the log, and tried to adjust her +skirt; but the movement only unbalanced her. With a shriek she +flattened herself, and lay there panting and miserable. + +"Wait!" the voice cried, more sharply than before. "No move--for +minute!" + +She was arrested by the words. "No move for minute!" It was not the +voice of Philip Haig, but in that assurance there was only a doubtful +consolation. If not Haig--who? There was something oddly foreign in +that heavy, harsh, and yet not displeasing voice. A new fear presently +mingled with the others. It was a wild country after all; and she had +taken no note of the distance she had come, and little of her +surroundings. But she could only obey, and wait. + +There came the sound of quick splashing in the water, and a few +seconds later a man's head and shoulders appeared in the stream at +her side. At sight of the strange, dark countenance suddenly upturned +to her, within a foot of her own, she almost fainted. It was a face +she had never seen before, solemn, stolid, with a copper-colored skin, +high cheek bones, and deep-set, black eyes in which there was no more +expression than there was on the thin, straight lips. She closed her +eyes. + +But that was only for an instant, since nothing terrible was +happening. When she dared to look again the man was quietly releasing +the offending fly. He tossed it back in the direction of the bank, +then stood for a moment regarding her, still without the trace of an +expression on his dark face. + +"Don't be 'fraid!" he said. "Hold still!" + +She obeyed him, though his next move was one to have brought a scream +to her lips if she had not become incapable of utterance. Standing in +the water, which came almost up to his armpits, he had kept his arms +high above the surface of the pool. Now he stretched them out toward +her, clasped both her ankles with one huge hand, slipped the other +under her waist, and with what seemed incredible strength and +assurance, lifted her off the log. Then, without so much as wetting +the edge of her skirt, he bore her to the bank, and seated her gently +on the heap of driftwood from which she had ventured so bravely only a +little while before. + +Should she weep, or laugh, or rage at him? Through eyes half-blinded +by tears, she searched his face; but he met her troubled and fiery +gaze with the most perfect calm. Then, after a moment, he deliberately +turned, and stood facing squarely away from her,--an act of stoicism +that at once removed her fears and completed her discomfiture. She +took the hint implied in his movement, and bent down, blushing +furiously, to pull up the fallen stocking, and let down her skirt. + +When she sat erect again the man had not changed his position; and she +seized the opportunity to study him. His figure, though she had just +had proof of his strength, was lean almost to thinness, very straight, +and borne, she fancied, with a certain dignity and even majesty in its +erectness. The straight, black hair under the sombrero was touched +with gray. He was not young, past middle age perhaps; but she could +hazard no nearer guess at his age. No matter! Looking at him thus, she +began to feel her resentment falling away, as if every shaft from her +angry eyes had broken harmlessly on that serene and unoffending back. +Even her embarrassment began to seem inexcusable. The man had carried +her ashore in much the manner he would have used if she had been a +sack of oats to be saved from wetting. + +"You are very strong!" Marion said at last. + +He turned slowly toward her. His face was grave and expressionless, +but by no means dull; and his eyes were very black and bright. + +"You--are--all--right--now?" he asked, ignoring her praise. + +There was a curious slowness and lack of emphasis in his speech, with +a pause after each word, that gave a singular impressiveness to all he +said. + +"But why did you do it?" she demanded. + +"'Fraid you fall," was his simple answer. + +"But I don't mind getting wet." + +"Easy drown in little water," he said laconically. + +She laughed at the idea of her drowning in a pool like that--she who +had battled triumphantly with the breakers at Atlantic City, Newport, +and Bar Harbor. + +"But I can swim!" she assured him. + +"I not know that," he replied, unmoved. + +True. And she must have appeared to be greatly in need of assistance. + +"Anyhow, I thank you!" she said sincerely. "But who am I thanking, +please?" + +"Pete." + +"Pete! Pete who?" + +"Only Pete." + +"But have you no other name?" + +"Yes. Indian name." + +And he rolled out a string of guttural syllables that sounded like +names of places in the Maine woods. + +Indian name! Marion started; and in a flash she knew. Haig's man +Friday! Here was luck indeed. + +"You are Mr. Haig's--" She hesitated. + +"Friend," he said, completing her sentence. + +Marion was again embarrassed. She did not know what to say next, +fearing to say the wrong thing, and so to throw away a golden +opportunity. In her search for the right lead, her eyes lighted on a +fishing basket that lay on the ground not far from her own. + +"Oh!" she cried. "But it's strange I didn't hear or see you!" + +"Indian not make noise." + +"I should say not!" she retorted, laughing. + +"Trout very smart," he added quietly. + +"I've caught fourteen," she volunteered eagerly. "And you?" + +For answer he fetched his creel, and opened it. + +"Oh!" she cried, in envy and admiration, seeing that the creel was +almost full, and that not a fish in sight was as small as her largest +prize. + +"I give you some," he said, glancing at her own basket. + +"No! No!" she protested quickly. "I have plenty." + +She showed him her catch, which was by no means insignificant. +Nevertheless Pete took three of his largest trout, and transferred +them to her basket, ignoring her protests. + +"But they are for--him, aren't they?" she asked. + +"Biggest you no see. At bottom." + +That satisfied her, and she watched him silently while he found her +rod, and reeled in the offending fly. + +"Brown fly better now," he said. "You ought see what trout eating +before you try catch big ones." + +On this he drew a book of flies from his pocket, and replaced the gray +hackle with a brown one. She questioned him eagerly, following this +plain lead; and presently they were seated on the pile of driftwood, +while he told her about the native trout and the rainbow and the +California, of little brooks far up among the mountains where the +trout were small but of a delicious flavor, of the time for flies and +the time for worms, of famous catches he had made, of the way the +Indians fished before the white man showed them patent rods and reels. +By slow degrees Pete's iron features softened, and he smiled at her, +not with his lips, but with his eyes, which were the blackest, surely, +in the world. + +But Marion was not diverted from the questions that were next her +heart. With all her woman's cunning of indirection, she brought the +talk around to Philip Haig. Did he fish? Sometimes. Did he hunt? Much, +when the deer came down from the heights with the first snows. +Then--she could resist no longer. + +"It must have been terrible--the accident," she said, placing a finger +on her cheek. + +He looked at her strangely, while she held her breath. + +"That no accident," he said at last, after what seemed to her an +interminable interval of suspense. + +"No accident?" she repeated, trying not to appear too eager. + +"He call it accident, maybe. He say it is nothing. Pete say it is +much. It is big debt. Some day Pete pay." + +There was deep silence for a moment. The stream gurgled and splashed; +the breeze whispered through the cottonwoods; and over all, or under +all, was the vague, insistent, seductive sound that the summer makes +in the fulness of its power. + +Marion hesitated, quivering with eagerness and uncertainty. She was +afraid to ask more, lest she should be shortly rebuffed, and lose her +opportunity. But Pete was looking at her steadily. She felt a flush +coming into her face again. Had he guessed--something--already in her +manner, in her impulsive questions? More likely it was the charm that, +for once unconsciously, she wielded--the elusive charm of woman that +makes men want to tell, without the asking. + +"You like to hear?" Pete said; and her heart leaped. + +"Oh, please!" + +And she was keenly disappointed. She had expected something romantic, +something ennobling and fine. And it was only a barroom brawl, though +Philip was not in it until the end, to be sure! Five Mexican sheep +herders against the lone Indian. Guns and knives in the reeking border +saloon; and afterwards in the street; and the Indian almost done for, +bleeding from a dozen wounds; and then a voice ringing out above the +fracas: "No, I'm damned if you do! Five to one, and greasers at that!" +And Philip Haig had jumped from his horse, and plunged into the mêlée, +disdaining to draw his gun on greasers. Smash! Bang! went his fists, +front and right and left. + +Pete had accounted for one Mexican, who would herd sheep no more on +the plains of Conejos. The others fled. Then Haig, despite the +knife-wound in his face, grabbed the Indian, and somehow lifted him up +behind him on his horse. + +"Quick, Indian!" he cried. "This town's full of greasers. You've got +no chance here." + +And then the long ride to Del Norte, with the Indian drooping on +Haig's back; and a doctor of Haig's acquaintance, who sheltered and +cured the silent savage. And Pete, convalescent, had come straight to +Haig's ranch, and remained there, despite Haig's protests that he did +not need another hand. + +"Pete stay until big debt is paid," said the Indian solemnly. And +then, with a straight look into Marion's eyes, "You ought tell +Huntington he is damn fool." + +Marion started. There it was again--the warning! + +"But why?" she managed to ask. + +"Haig is brave man. Brave man always good man. So--Huntington got no +chance." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAN + + +She rode casually down the Brightwater, and casually up the +Brightwater; she loitered at crossroads, and tarried at Thompson's +store; and not one glimpse did she catch of Philip Haig. Then one +morning she rose at dawn, as she had risen on the day of her fishing +exploit, with a purpose. But this time she dressed with exceeding +care, in a riding suit she had not yet worn in the Park. It was soft +dove-gray in color, with a long coat that showed the fine lines of her +figure and, when she rode, revealed snug-fitting breeches above the +tops of the polished boots,--a very different costume from the black +divided skirts and the short jacket in which she had galloped about +the Park. + +Thus arrayed and resolute, she rode straight down the valley to the +branch road that had once tempted her to adventure; straight up the +hill; and straight through the woods until she halted once more in the +shade of the outpost pine that stood beyond its clustered fellows like +a sentinel above the valley. Her valley! She waited a moment, +wondering if it welcomed her. There was the stream, still flashing in +the sun, the meadows as brightly green as then, the grass of the +pasture running in bronze waves before the breeze. From the heart of a +wild rose a gorgeous red and brown butterfly flew out and fluttered +over her head. Not a dozen yards below her a meadow lark, unseen, +burst into sudden, thrilling song; and somewhere down the hill another +took up the strain, then another and another, until the air was +charged and quivering with melody, piercing sweet. She listened, her +heart throbbing to the music, until the chorus died away in dripping +cadences, and only a drowsy murmur came from the ripening fields to +mingle with the low droning of the pine organ on the hill. Yes! Her +valley welcomed her. + +She rode on down the hill, with only a quick and embarrassed glance +into the Forbidden Pasture; and suddenly raised herself excitedly in +the stirrups. There again was the spiral of blue smoke; then a chimney +and a red roof; and finally the house itself, and barn and corrals, +all tucked away against the foot of the hill. Dismounting, she led +Tuesday back a few yards, and left him to feed along the roadside. +Then she returned, and seated herself on a rock, half-hidden by a +blackberry bush, to study the group of houses lying low and silent in +the sun. + +There were more buildings than at Huntington's, but she saw no beds of +flowers, no wide veranda screened with potted plants; a certain +bareness and air of inhospitality, she thought. No tea and angel cake +for visitors! Behind the ranch house were two cottages of unpainted +pine, scorched to a yellow-brown by many a summer sun. One of them, +doubtless, was the hermit's lodge. The barn, larger than Seth's, had a +red roof, newly painted. And in one of the corrals--yes--the flash of +a golden hide. + +"Sunnysides!" murmured Marion. + +Then her heart stood still. She had descried the figure of a man +seated with his back against the bars of this corral. But it was not +Philip Haig; Sunnysides' guard, no doubt, for he never left his post +until relieved by another an hour or so later, when the dinner bell +had been rung at the door of the ranch house. + +She had scarcely time to feel her disappointment before a man emerged +from the stable leading a saddle horse. Another immediately followed, +and this time there was no mistake. The second man was Philip Haig. He +mounted quickly, and started off; then stopped to address a word or +two, apparently, to the man at the stable door; and finally galloped +past the ranch house and the cottages, and up the slope behind them +toward the pines, across the valley from where she sat. + +"Oh!" cried Marion, in a tone of vexation and reproach. + +She watched him until he had disappeared among the trees; and tears +started in her eyes. Would he always be riding away from her, behind +the hills, the woods, a turn of the road? She sat a while in deep +dejection; but not for long. Her spirit was too resilient for futile +moping, and her purpose too firmly held to be abandoned on one +reverse. She reflected that if he had gone he must as certainly +return; and so, with a toss of her head, she presently arose, and +fetched her raincoat and her luncheon from the saddle. The coat she +spread out on the ground, seated herself on it with her back against +the rock, and settled down to eat, and watch, and wait. + +Morning mounted hot and humming into noon, and noon dropped languidly +into afternoon. The blazing sun centered his rays upon her; insects +found and pestered her; discomfort cramped her limbs, and weariness +weighted down her eyelids. Twice she dozed, and wakened with a start +of fear lest she had slept her chance away. But each time she was +reassured by a hurried survey of the group of buildings, where no one +stirred, and there was no sign of Philip Haig. So the hours dragged +their slow length along. + +It was late in the afternoon before her vigil was rewarded. Not from +just the direction in which he had galloped away, but from farther up +the valley, Haig reappeared. He rode as rapidly as before, straight to +the door of the stable, reined up a moment there, and was off +again,--this time down the valley on a white road that was visible to +Marion until it curved behind the distant point of the ridge on which +she sat. + +"Now where's he going?" she murmured, wrinkling her forehead as she +saw him once more vanish from her sight. + +She did not know that road, but guessed that it joined the main +highway somewhere far down the Brightwater. No matter! Here was her +opportunity; for she saw, with quick appreciation, that she would now +be able to place herself between him and the ranch buildings without +showing herself to the men at the corrals. And then? She could not +"hold him up" like a highwayman; and if she did not stop him he would +raise his hat (perhaps), and ride past her without a word. And how was +she to stop him? She had come there with a very definite purpose, but +with no clear plan, trusting to the inspiration of the moment. And now +the moment had arrived; but where was the inspiration? She had risen +impulsively to her feet, and stood staring between narrowed eyelids, +and beneath a puckered brow, at the white road, now quite empty again. +Then suddenly-- + +"Ah!" she gasped. + +And thereupon she blushed, and looked furtively around her, as if she +had been caught in some doubtful, if not discreditable, act. But there +was no time for moral subtleties. She staggered--for her legs were +stiff from inaction--to her pony, replaced her raincoat behind the +saddle, mounted in hot haste, and rode down the steep hill toward the +houses. At a little distance from them the road she traveled joined +the other. There she turned abruptly, and followed the unfamiliar road +until she was safely out of sight of any chance observer at the barn, +and yet not so far from the trail she had just left but that she could +return to it if, by any chance, he should come back that way. + +Dismounting quickly at the chosen spot, she turned Tuesday until he +stood squarely across the road. Then her nimble fingers flew at the +cinches of the saddle. + +"There now!" she exclaimed, hot with excitement and exertion. + +She stepped back to view her handiwork, and laughed nervously. Next +she drew a tiny mirror and a bit of chamois skin from her bosom, and +swiftly removed some of the dust and moisture from her flushed face. +Then her hair, always somewhat unruly, required a touch or two. That +done, she smoothed down the gray coat over her slender hips, adjusted +the gray silk tie at her throat, and waited. + +He came, in his habitual cloud of dust; pulled up his pony within ten +feet of the obstruction; saw the saddle hanging at a dangerous angle +over Tuesday's side; and accepted the obvious conclusion that Miss +Marion Gaylord, looking very warm and embarrassed, but certainly very +pretty in her confusion, had narrowly escaped a fall. + +"I think I'd better help you with that, Miss Gaylord," he said. + +"Thank you!" she said, with an appealing reluctance. "I can do it--I +often saddle my own horse, and--" + +"I should judge that you had saddled him this time," he interrupted +her to say, without the slightest trace of irony in his tone. + +She bit her lip, as she silently made way for him, and stood at +Tuesday's head, stroking his neck with one small, gloved hand while +Haig adjusted the blanket, fitted the saddle firmly, and tightened the +double cinch. He was dressed in the nondescript costume he had worn at +their first meeting. That same hat, uniquely insolent, soiled and limp +and disreputable, was stuck on the back of his head, revealing a full, +clean-moulded brow, over which, at one side, his thick black hair fell +carelessly. His eyes were calm gray rather than stormy black to-day, +but a gray that was singularly dark and deep and luminous. His manner +was in the strangest contrast with the two different moods in which +she had already seen him--as if the fires were out, as if all emotion +and interest had been dissolved in listlessness. And she divined at +once that her chance of success was small. + +"That will hold, I think," he said gravely; and started toward his +horse. + +"It wasn't Tuesday's fault," she said eagerly. + +Haig paused, on one foot as it were, and looked over his shoulder. + +"It was fortunate for you that he's been well gentled," he said. "You +should look to your cinches rather often when you ride these hills." + +("You should keep your feet dry, and come in when it rains," he might +as well have said, she thought angrily.) + +"Yes, it was careless of me," she answered, trying to say it brightly, +but really wanting to shriek. + +"It happens to everybody once in a while," he said. + +On that, he stepped to his pony, put a foot in the stirrup, and one +hand on the saddle horn, and paused. + +She could easily have flopped down in the road, and wept. Once he had +raged at her, once he had thrilled her with a look, and now he was +simply dismissing her,--leaving her, as her father would have put it, +"to stew in her own juice." She saw all her elaborate strategy, her +long vigil on the hill, her struggle with the saddle, her appealing' +glances--all, all about to go for nothing. + +"He might at least help me on my horse!" she thought, in bitter +resentment. + +Perhaps tears blinded her. At any rate--and this was without pretence, +and no part of her scheme--she did not see clearly what she was doing. +It was nothing new to mount her pony from the level; she had done it a +hundred times without mishap. But now, in her agitation, she stood +somewhat too far away from Tuesday's shoulder; and the pony, as ponies +will sometimes do, started forward the instant he felt the weight in +the stirrup. + +"Look out!" cried Haig. + +It was too late. She missed the saddle; her right foot struck +Tuesday's back, and slipped off; and she fell sprawling on the ground, +with her left foot fast in the stirrup. + +"Whoa, Tuesday!" she cried shrilly as she fell. + +Luckily the horse did not take alarm and run, as a less reliable +animal might have done, dragging the girl under his heels. He stopped +in his tracks, and stood obediently, even turning his head as if to +see what damage had been done. It was enough. Marion was uninjured, +but badly frightened; and her humiliation was complete. She lay on her +back, struggling vainly to extricate her foot from the stirrup. Her +coat skirts had fallen back, and--Thank Heaven for the riding +breeches, and not what she had worn under divided skirts! + +"Lie still!" yelled Haig, remembering what he had seen happen to men +in such circumstances. + +In three leaps he was at her side. With a swift movement (and none too +gentle), he wrenched her foot loose from the stirrup, and helped her +to sit up, dazed and trembling and very white. + +"Your ankle--is it hurt?" he asked sharply. + +"I don't know," she said. + +And then the expected "inspiration of the moment" came. + +"A little," she added. + +And so it was done. Her foot had indeed been twisted slightly; she had +truly, _truly_ felt a twinge of pain. At another time she would have +thought no more about it, but now--The color rushed back into her +cheeks; she fetched a smile that was half a grimace; and the game was +on again. + +Haig reached a hand to her. She took it, and let him draw her to her +feet. + +"Try the ankle--just a step!" he commanded. + +She rested her weight on her left foot. + +"Oh!" she cried out, and looked helplessly at Haig. + +A shadow, unmistakably of annoyance, passed over his face. + +"You're not going to faint, are you?" he asked, looking keenly at +her. + +Her color always came and went easily, and now, a little frightened by +her bold deception, she was pale again. + +"No--I think not," she said. ("At any rate not here," she might have +added.) + +"Can you ride to the corrals?" was his next question. + +The look of annoyance was now fixed on his face, but it did not +discourage her. + +"Yes, if--" + +She looked doubtfully at Tuesday. Thereupon, without a word, Haig led +the horse close to her, but placed so that she was at Tuesday's right +side instead of the left. Then, while she supported herself with one +hand on his shoulder, he raised her right foot, and thrust it into the +stirrup; and, with a hand under each of her arms, lifted her until she +was able to throw the left foot over, and her body into the saddle. +Once more Marion bit her lip. His action was as devoid of personal +interest as Pete's had been when he carried her out of the pool; and +she had not come to Philip Haig to be treated like a sack of oats! + +Haig mounted his pony, and rode up close beside her; and thus, in +unbroken silence, they arrived at the door of the stable. There Haig +dismounted quickly, stepped briskly around her horse, and almost +before she was aware of his intention, lifted her out of the saddle, +and set her on her feet--all very carefully and gently, but also very +scrupulously, without an unnecessary pressure, without even a glance +into her waiting eyes. What was the man made of? Why would he not look +at her? Why did he not rage at her--if he could do nothing better? +Well, the cat had at least seven lives left! + +She almost forgot to limp, but bethought herself in time, and gasped +as he led her to an empty soap box at the side of the stable door. +Having seated her there, he called out to the man on guard at +Sunnysides' corral: "Where's Curly?" + +"Down by the crick," was the answer. + +"Bring him here! I'll watch the horse." + +Thereupon he took the man's place, and stood with his arms crossed on +the top rail of the fence, his eyes fixed on the golden horse. And +Marion felt a real pain at last,--a pang of jealousy. So he preferred +to look at the horse, did he? If he had chanced at that instant to +glance at her he would have seen a pair of blue eyes blazing with +wrath. + +The two men came hurrying from the creek. + +"Here, Curly!" said Haig, resigning his post. "Miss Gaylord has hurt +her ankle. I found her unseated down the road yonder." He paused, as +if to let that be thoroughly understood. "I want you to hitch up the +sorrels and drive her home." + +"Right!" responded Curly, going into the stable. + +Marion then did almost faint. She had not foreseen that manoeuver. + +"I'd rather not, please," she said, as sweetly as she could in her +dismay. + +"Rather not what?" asked Haig, turning at last to her. + +"I'd rather rest a while--somewhere--" Her glance went past him in the +direction of the cottage. "Then I can ride home--alone." + +"And tumble off in the road somewhere!" he retorted, with a touch of +derision in his tone. + +"Oh, no!" she pleaded. "It's not as bad as that." + +"No matter! I can't allow you to take any chances," he insisted +curtly. + +"Really, I need only a little rest," she persisted. "If I could lie +down a few minutes--" her eyes again were turned toward the cottage. + +He saw what she meant, and frowned. + +"No!" he snapped. Then, checking himself, "I don't mean to be +inhospitable, but you ought to know that's impossible." + +"You mean--Cousin Seth?" + +He shot a look at her that frightened her, but gratified her too. Was +she rousing him at last? + +"Yes, if you like," he said, quietly enough. "I'm having a hard enough +time with the fool without a woman being mixed up in the affair." + +"I don't understand," said Marion. + +"You don't understand!" he repeated. "Of course not. Women never +understand--until afterwards. I'll make it plainer. I'm a bad man, as +you have doubtless heard. What would Paradise Park say when it learned +that you had been inveigled into my house?" + +She was silent a moment. + +"Well then, let me sit here and rest!" she insisted. + +"But why?" he demanded impatiently. + +She took her courage in both hands, and plunged. + +"I want to talk to you," she said eagerly. "I want to ask you if there +is no way--" + +"Excuse me!" he broke in. "I don't want you to talk to me. If I +did--" + +He stopped, with a shrug. Marion felt her face reddening, but she +dissembled her embarrassment. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You're not afraid of me, are you?" + +It was spoken archly, in her most playful, most kittenish manner, and +so she was amazed to see his face distorted as if by some violent +emotion. But he spoke with restraint, though in a tone that was hard +and harsh. + +"Yes, I am afraid of you. The only thing in the world a man needs to +fear is a woman." + +The first effect of this speech was to surprise and shock her. The +next was to make her heart leap. Had she come near the secret, after +all? Then, finally, something deep in the man's eyes roused in her a +thrill of pity. In another minute she would have melted, in her +compassion, and begged him humbly to pardon her. But at that instant +Curly emerged from the barn, leading the sorrels; and the devil that +lurks behind a woman's tongue spoke for her before she was aware of +it. + +"So you'd rather one of your men took me to Cousin Seth!" + +It was scarcely out before she regretted it with all her heart. If +there was a devil behind her tongue there was another back of the +somber shadows in Haig's eyes. He flashed one comprehending look at +her; his whole manner underwent a swift and terrifying change; he was +again the Philip Haig of that day at the post office. + +"Great!" he exclaimed. "That will be the best joke of all. I'll drive +you home myself, of course." + +For a moment Marion sat very still on the soap box, stunned, staring +open-mouthed at Haig. What had she done? That mad speech! Then she +leaped to her feet. + +"No! No!" she cried. "You shall not!" + +He smiled at her. + +"Shall not?" he repeated sardonically. + +"I mean--please not that!" she faltered. + +"Why not?" he demanded, almost gaily. + +"Oh, please! I didn't mean it that way." + +"Of course you didn't mean it! Women never do mean it--that way. And I +suppose you didn't mean to let those men ride on to Paradise when they +told you the horse was mine, did you?" + +"Oh!" cried Marion, almost in a scream. "How did you--know?" + +He laughed. + +"I happened to ask Larkin if he had met nobody on the road who could +have directed him. He said there was no one but a 'purty girl.' That +was you, wasn't it?" + +She was speechless. + +"And my warning to Huntington. Did you deliver that?" + +"No," she answered, scarcely above a whisper. + +"Of course not. That would have been too simple and honest and direct. +You can't be honest and straightforward to save your lives. You live +by deception, and boast about your love of truth. Your deepest craving +is for violence, while you prate about your gentle influence over men. +I haven't the least doubt in the world that Mrs. Huntington, for all +her baby face, is back of all Huntington's violence--thinks she's a +wonderful inspiration to him, with a special genius for the cattle +business! And when she gets him killed--with your assistance--she'll +flop down, and weep--and you too, both of you--and wail that you +didn't mean it!" + +She recoiled from him, and leaned helplessly against the wall of the +stable. + +"So you let the men ride on to Paradise," he went on with relentless +mockery, "and you let Huntington plunge into that business when you +knew, from me, exactly what it meant. And you rode over here to-day--I +wonder, now, if your foot's really hurt, or if that also is some +trick!" + +It was the merest chance shot. He had no suspicion that she had been +shamming, for he had been too much annoyed by the whole incident to be +critical of her demeanor. But the shot went home. The girl, without a +word or cry, suddenly sank down on the box, with her face buried in +her hands. + +There ensued a moment of tense silence. For all the bitterness that +surged under his railing speech, Haig was not untouched by the sight +of the girl, bent and cowering before him. But at the same time he was +exasperated anew by the scene that was being enacted under the eyes of +his two men. + +"Come!" he said presently, not without reluctant gentleness. "It's +growing late. We must start at once." + +The words increased her terror. Through the hands that covered her +eyes she could see Haig and Huntington--with revolvers drawn; and +Claire's white face--She rose impulsively, dropping her hands from her +hot and tear-stained cheeks. She would confess all to him, though it +should betray the inmost secret of her heart; and would beseech him +not to go-- + +"Don't say it--here!" he commanded sharply, lowering his voice as he +bent toward her. "They think there's something queer about all this. +Come!" + +She obeyed him silently, her resolution vanishing before his +authority. Besides, there was yet time, somewhere on the road. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE END OF HER STRATAGEM + + +For some minutes there was no speech, no sound except the swift beat +of the horses' hoofs on the hard roadway, and the crisp crunching of +wheels in the sand. Marion sat rigid, staring straight in front of +her, yet seeing nothing. Dazed and benumbed, her thoughts were in a +hopeless tangle, without beginnings, without ends. How she had bungled +the whole thing! And she might have been so happy, there at his side. + +Twilight was coming on in the serene, clear beauty of the mountains: +the distant peaks glowed like great opals in the sundown hues; there +was an indescribable sweetness in the air, something magical in the +soft but cold night breeze that began to pour down upon the valley +from the eternal snows. + +Timidly, out of the corner of her eye, Marion glanced at Haig, and saw +that he was gazing steadily at the changing colors on the distant +range. But there was no beauty for her in that perfect panorama. The +fire had gone out of her, and she was shivering. He must have felt her +movement, for suddenly he leaned forward, lifted the edge of the heavy +lap-robe that had lain neglected at their feet, and tucked it around +her. She drew back with a quick intake of breath as his face was for +an instant close to her own. A moment later he began to speak in a +tone that surprised and encouraged her, so little did it resemble the +tones he had employed before. It was as if nothing had happened, as if +they had long been talking of things casual, impersonal to them both. + +"It's different in the San Luis," he said. "There's red down there. +Nature's palette is a little short of red in this valley. Too much +blue. Even nature sometimes gets a one-color obsession, like the +painters. Here she's gone off on blue. It's the most dangerous color. +Darwin says it was the last color produced in nature's laboratory. +Ordinarily it's the least common in flowers and birds and insects. +Hearn--Have you read Lafcadio Hearn? No? But you ought to, that is, if +you care for such things. He goes after blue--the misuse of it. He +says it's the color most pleasureable to the eye in its purest +intensity. But you mustn't dab it on. A blue house is a crime. Blue's +overdone here too, blue sky, blue mists, blue shadows, blue lakes, +blue flowers,--anemones, harebells, columbines and the rest. It's a +relief to get into the reds of the San Luis--" + +"Where Sunnysides came from!" interrupted Marion, eager despite her +misery. + +"Yes." + +"Tell me about him, please!" + +She wanted him to continue in that strain, and even Sunnysides was a +less dangerous subject than--another. + +"Well, about Sangre de Cristo first. That's a great range that stands +up high and white along the east. Sangre de Cristo is Spanish for +Blood of Christ. I can see those pious old rascal adventurers +uncovering their blessed heads when they first glimpsed it. At sunset +it takes the color--not always, not often, in fact, perhaps a dozen +times a year. There are days and days when the range is only white and +cold, days when it's black with storms, and days when it's dismal +gray. Then there comes an evening when the sun goes down red behind +the San Juan, and the snows on Sangre de Cristo run like blood. The +whole world, for a few minutes, seems to halt and stand still in awe +at that weird and mysterious spectacle--trainmen setting the brakes on +squealing ore trains on Marshall Pass, and miners coming out of their +tunnels above Creed all stop and look; Mexican sheep-herders in +Conejos pause to cross themselves; ranchmen by their lonely corrals up +and down the San Luis, and cowboys in the saddle on the open +range--all spellbound. It gives you a strange feeling--something that +goes back to the primitive instincts of mankind--something of +reverence, something of wonder, something of fear--the fear that the +first men had when they gazed on the phenomena they could not +understand, and began to make their myths and their religions. +Primitive superstition, primitive terror will never quite down in us, +no matter how wise and practical we become. There's always, in +beauty--in sheer beauty something terrifying, as well as something +sad. But--do I bore you with my dithyrambs?" + +"No! No!" she exclaimed. + +"The scene couldn't have been set better for that spectacle. There's a +green strip along the river, then bare sagebrush flats, and beyond the +flats are sand dunes where nothing grows but cactus and mesquite, and +here and there some tufts of grass as tough and dry as wire. In summer +the dunes are a parched and blistered inferno. In October they are +raw gray desolation. I don't want to know what they are like in +winter. The wind never ceases there. It builds the dunes into new +shapes every day, and the sagebrush is always bent and lopsided and +torn, and the colors are the gray and brown of the world's secret +tragedy. But when the red sunset is on the dunes there's nothing I +have ever seen so wild and passionate and beautiful. + +"It was late in the autumn. I rode out of a deep arroya, and came, +without warning, into all that weird and solemn glory. There was a +cold gush of air from up the valley. Far in the north were purple +patches on the flats, and violet shadows in the foothills. But the +dunes were all vermilion, and I can't tell you what hue of red lay +spread out deep and vivid on the Sangre de Cristo peaks,--a living, +passionate, terrible blood-red. I'm not very devout, but I tell you +candidly that I reined up my horse, took off my hat, and sat there +gazing, with the queerest feelings, and saying, like the old +Spaniards, 'Sangre de Cristo! Blood of Christ!' + +"Then something queer happened to me. You've seen a flash of sunlight +reflected from a window, far off? Well, it wasn't like that, except in +the sharpness of its effect. And I knew there was no house in all that +waste of sand. It was just a flash, and was gone. I searched the +horizon, and saw nothing but red dunes, and little puffs of sand +kicked up by the rising wind. Must have been some trick of vision, I +thought, and I looked away again toward the blood-red peaks. And there +it was again, in the corner of my eye. But it was gone when I tried to +fix it. I put spurs to my horse, and rode toward the dunes, and caught +the flash again--just a bright yellow speck in the darkening +vermilion. It came and went, and seemed then to have been lost +completely. I was about convinced that the red sunset had gone to my +head--that I was following something that existed only in my brain. + +"Then, as I loped up to the top of a dune--there he stood, on another +dune, perhaps two hundred yards away. His golden hide reflected the +red glow like polished metal, his mane flamed in the wind. You cannot +possibly imagine the effect of it, in that unreal light, in that +setting of desolation, with the crimson mountains behind him. He stood +alone on the hill, with his head high, motionless as a statue. For as +long as half a minute he let me look at him. Then he turned, and was +gone like a flash of fire. I had just one more glimpse of him, flying +over the dunes, and followed by a score or more of wild horses of all +colors except his color, and none worth looking at. With him the red +went out of the landscape, the peaks turned white, and I sat alone in +the gray, raw twilight. But right there I made up my mind about one +thing: I must have that horse. You know the rest." + +"But what do you mean to do with him?" asked Marion, vaguely +troubled. + +"Ride him." + +"Don't!" she gasped. + +"Why not?" he demanded. + +"He'll kill you!" + +Haig laughed. + +"Oh, I think not!" + +"But what is the use?" + +"What's the use of anything?" + +"But it's--" + +"Mere folly, you think?" + +"Yes." + +"Now you don't mean that at all, Miss Gaylord. You know perfectly well +that if I were doing it to please you--to win your admiration--you +wouldn't call it folly." + +"You will please me--and win my admiration--if you don't do it. +Please!" + +"But I don't want--You'll pardon me?--I don't want to win your +admiration." + +What could she say to that? There was a moment of silence. + +"When?" she asked quietly. + +"I'm waiting for Farrish, my foreman. He's the only man I can +absolutely depend upon. He's in Omaha. He'll be back next week." + +"And you won't begin without him?" + +"No." + +She had no choice but to be satisfied with a few days of grace. +Moreover, something might happen before the return of Farrish; the +outlaw might escape, or she might find another opportunity to plead +with Haig, or--What was she thinking of? Something was going to +happen that very evening; and she had almost forgotten it, in her +absorption! + +She had meant to do, long before now, what he had prevented her doing +at the stable,--to confess her deception, to plead for mercy, to beg +him to go back. Failing in that, there was Tuesday trotting behind the +trap; she could leap out, prove to Haig that her foot was uninjured, +and insist upon riding home alone. But now the confession seemed ten +times more difficult than it had seemed in the first flush of her +resolution. They were far up the Brightwater by this time; a few +minutes more would bring them to the branch road that led to +Huntington's. Yet how could she tell him? + +"My foot doesn't hurt any more," she began, compromising with her +resolution. + +"That's because you've been sitting still," he replied. + +"But it doesn't hurt when I move it. See!" + +She lifted the foot, and rested it on the dashboard, bending and +twisting it. + +"By which you mean to tell me that I am to go back," he said. + +"Please!" + +"No!" he answered curtly. + +"It wasn't badly sprained at all," she persisted. "I was only--" She +caught herself, with a shock. "I was only frightened, I think." + +"I don't believe you." + +"But it's the truth." + +"Then it was not the truth in the first place." + +There it was now, her best occasion to come out with it. But no; she +could not. + +"It's not so bad as I feared," she stammered. + +"I trust not. A sprain is a bad business." + +"But you'll go back now!" she pleaded. + +"No." + +"Oh, why won't you?" + +"I've started." + +"That's not the reason!" she cried desperately. + +"True, there's another reason. That makes two." + +"What other reason?" + +"I want to ask Huntington about his health." + +The deviltry had come back into his voice; and just ahead of them she +saw the fork of the road. + +"There's a third reason too, I'm afraid," she answered bitterly. + +"What's that, do you think?" + +"You want to punish me!" + +"Perhaps--a little." + +"Do you think that's--" + +"Noble? Manly? Kind? Generous?" he broke in. + +"Do you really think it's worth your while to punish me?" she asked +with passionate irony. + +"Yes." + +"But why?" + +"Because I hope to be let alone hereafter." + +At that her anger rose. + +"Do you think that is the way a man should speak to a woman?" + +"It seems to be the only way to make a woman understand. And even +then--" + +She felt that he shrugged his shoulders in the darkness. + +"Then I'm sorry for the women you have known!" she retorted. + +"That should make it all the easier for you to avoid any more +accidents in my part of the Park," he answered unperturbed. "It's your +own fault if I'm rude. I haven't forced my attentions upon you. If you +feel that you've been mistreated, there's another reason--that makes +four, doesn't it?--for my going to Huntington's. We'll be there in +five minutes. You can tell him." + +She could find no answer to all this. Brutal as it was, she knew that +she had deserved it. Her anger fell away, for she had found already +that she could not be angry with him long; and now, even in her +torment, she began to be sorry for him, wondering what he had passed +through that had so hardened and embittered him. + +But the team had turned into the branch road; and she must act at +once. There remained but one thing for her to do: to leap out of the +trap, and refuse to go farther with him. On the thought, she measured +the distance to the ground, the speed of the trotting sorrels. Perhaps +she moved a little. Or had he actually read her thoughts? For +suddenly, but very quietly, he laid a hand on her shoulder. + +"No!" he said. "You might really hurt yourself this time." + +She sank back in dismay, but with a thrill of admiration. What was +this man, who knew her thoughts before she herself knew them, who +mastered her--and despised her? She trembled, and was glad of the +night that concealed her flushed face from him. As for her purpose, +she was at the end of her resources. No confession, no plea would +avail to shake his determination. She could do no more; and judgment +was upon her--soon. + +"Hold the reins, please!" commanded Haig. + +He leaped out of the trap, opened the gate, and closed it when he had +led the sorrels through. Then he climbed into the trap, and drove on. +There was no moon. The ranch buildings lay huddled and indistinct in +the dim starlight. + +At the sound of the hoofs and wheels a man emerged from the stable, +bearing a lantern. He hurried up to them, stumbling sleepily, and +peering at the figures vaguely seen in the gloom. + +"Here, Williams!" Haig said shortly. "Hold my team, will you! I'll be +only a few minutes." + +The lantern fell from the man's hand, struck the ground with a +clatter, and lay on its side, flaming and smoking. + +"Pick it up!" ordered Haig. + +The man obeyed, with the suddenness of a jack-in-the-box, and stood as +if petrified. + +"Quick! The horses! They're no damned broncos!" + +Williams jumped to the bridles; and a gleam from the lantern showed +Marion his face. His mouth was open, his eyes staring with incredulity +and alarm. She was seized with a preposterous desire to laugh at that +comical visage, made grotesque by the wavering light of the lantern +that danced in the fellow's hand. She was on the verge of hysteria. + +Haig leaped out, and held up his arms for her, snapping his fingers +impatiently. In almost complete inertia, yet with every nerve +quivering, she let him help her to the ground, where he placed her arm +in his, and started toward the ranch house. + +"Limp! Limp!" he whispered in her ear. + +She obeyed him mechanically. Everything seemed to have become very +still and cold; feeling had frozen in her limbs; terror clutched at +her icily out of the gloom. There were two lighted windows in front of +her, two baleful yellow gleams, like the eyes of a monster of the +night. At any instant the door would open, gulping her in. + +She choked down a cry. Her feet were like lead now, and she stumbled +on the first of the half-dozen steps that led to the veranda. Haig +pulled her up quickly, flung his right arm around her waist, and +fairly carried her up the steps. At that moment, just as they stood on +the level floor, the door was opened, and Huntington's huge body +appeared in silhouette against the lamplight. + +"That you, Marion?" he called out, peering into the darkness. Then, +almost instantly: "Somebody with you, Marion?" + +Haig answered for her. + +"Good evening, Cousin Seth!" he called out cheerily. "I just dropped +in to ask about your health." + +For perhaps as long as it took him to catch his arrested breath, +Huntington stood motionless. Then, with an oath, he bounded back into +the room, and disappeared, as Marion dully realized, in the direction +of his room, where his revolver hung on a rack. She felt the form +beside her straighten out like a loosed spring; and the next instant +she was borne swiftly forward into the light, into the house, into the +scene she had pictured, the scene she herself had prepared. The arm +that supported her was quickly withdrawn, and she was left standing at +one side of the door, while Haig leaped away from her, and stood +waiting at the other. + +Even as this was done, Huntington reappeared at the door of his +bedroom. The revolver in his right hand moved slowly upward. In +the kitchen doorway was Claire--a stricken thing in blue and +gold--clinging to the doorpost, her lips parted, her eyes wide with +terror. But Haig! Could anything have been more horrible than that +smile? It was fearless, mocking, insolent. And his whole attitude +matched it perfectly. He stood carelessly erect, with arms folded, +disdaining Huntington's weapon. But not the slightest motion of his +enemy--perhaps not even the thought before it--could have escaped +him. Marion knew him; and she felt as certain as if it had already +happened that if Seth lifted his revolver by so much as another +inch he would be stretched out on the floor there as he had been on +the ground at Paradise. + +All this she saw in an interval as brief as that between two clicks of +the shutter of her kodak. Then the clock on the mantel began to +strike. It was a friendly clock, with a musical, soft note. But now +its stroke crashed upon the silence like a tolling bell. It seemed to +have its part in that halted scene, as if all waited on its last +solemn count. If she could only move, think, speak, before it +finished! + +The next thing she knew she was in the middle of the room, directly +between the two men, and speaking. + +"Wait, Seth!" she heard herself saying. "I did it. I brought him here +to--to make peace with you." + +She ended on the clock's last note; and silence fell again. +Huntington's jaw dropped; amazement was printed on his face, and +incredulity. Marion walked quietly up to him, took the revolver from +his hand, and left him standing in the doorway, his arms hanging loose +at his side. She crossed the room to Haig, slowly, somewhat gropingly +like a somnambulist, with a half-smiling, strange expression fixed on +her chalk-white face. She stretched out her left hand to him, her +right still clasping Seth's six-shooter. There was something +magnetic, curiously compelling in her manner; for she said nothing, +made no sound. Haig stared at her, the odious smile fading from his +lips; his arms slowly fell apart, one hand in the direction of the +revolver at his hip; and for a moment it seemed that he too would +yield to her. But suddenly he threw back his head, and laughed. + +"By Jupiter!" he cried. "I didn't think it was in you. You almost got +me too. Good night--all!" + +On that he turned on his heel, and vanished into the night. Marion +heard him laughing still as his boots crunched on the gravel; heard +his voice in brief and sharp command at the stable; heard the beat of +the sorrels' hoofs on the road, and the fragment of a song wafted back +to her,--something rollicking and insolent, in a foreign tongue. She +stood listening until the sounds had died away in the night, and +silence enveloped her. Then, just as Huntington leaped forward with a +bellow of rage,--too late, as ever,--and Claire, with a shriek, rushed +to throw herself between him and the door, Marion's head drooped +forward, her knees gave way, and she fell senseless on the floor. + +Huntington's big revolver, slipping from her nerveless fingers as she +fell, struck the Navajo rug with a muffled thump, bounced and rolled +over, and settled down harmlessly on a patch of barbaric red. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HEARTS INSURGENT + + +Seth recovered his revolver, and lunged toward the door. But Claire +was before him. She flung herself upon him, clutching the lapels of +his coat. + +"Seth! Seth!" she shrieked. "What are you doing?" + +"I'll follow him!" he roared. "I'll follow him! I'll end the whole +thing! I'll finish it, I tell you!" + +"No! No!" she wailed; and clung to him frantically. + +He was beside himself, almost incoherent, for the moment quite +irresponsible. It is very likely that, but for Claire, he would have +mounted a horse and pursued Haig to his ranch, with such consequences +as anybody except himself could easily have foreseen. But he was not +so far gone in frenzy as to hurt Claire, as he must have done in +tearing himself loose from her. He stood a moment in tragic +helplessness, grinding his teeth, and hurling muttered imprecations +out into the night that covered Philip Haig. Then he looked down at +the golden head pressed against his breast, and felt the frail body +quivering; and some sense of what he was doing, or was about to do, +reached his brain through the fumes of rage. There was yet a long +struggle; for he was too ponderous for quick decisions, and at the +same time too outright for successful equivocation. Defeat was always +a staggering blow to him, since he had no art to mask it. And now, +lacking the sagacity to swallow his mortification and to bide his +time, he could only suffer, rending himself in lieu of another on whom +to pour his fury. + +In the midst of this futile passion his roving eyes fell on +Marion. She lay where she had fallen, in a dead faint, limp on the +red-and-yellow rug. Seth stared at her a full minute, while an +indefinable suspicion grew in the back of his brain. She had said, +"I've brought him here to make peace with you." And Haig himself had +given the lie to that speech! What did it all mean? By God, he would +find out! + +"Come, Claire!" he said. "Attend to Marion!" And he began to loosen +her fingers from his coat. + +But she only clutched it the tighter. + +"You'll go!" she cried. + +"No! Not to-night!" + +"You promise?" + +"Yes! Yes!" he growled. + +She looked steadily up at him, questioning, fearful, until he bent +down and kissed her. + +"There!" he said, roughly and yet not ungently. "Now go to Marion!" + +They picked her up, and laid her on the couch at one side of the big +room; and Claire unbuttoned her dress at the throat, and bathed her +face and neck with cold water, while Seth rubbed and slapped her +hands. + +Her first impulse, on opening her eyes and seeing Claire and Seth +leaning over her, was to raise her head, and look toward the door. She +saw only a patch of darkness, empty and still. Then she remembered how +she had heard his mocking voice fade away in the night; and her eyes +returned to Seth and Claire. Their faces told her what to expect: and +she knew that they were right in demanding, as they would demand, the +fullest explanation. + +"Water, please!" she murmured, moistening her dry lips with her +tongue. + +She sat up, slowly emptied the glass that Claire placed in her +trembling hand, then buttoned her collar over her bare throat, and +began to pin up the locks of hair that had fallen about her face and +neck. Her hands, she thought, were very thin and white. She had never +fainted before, and was still a little frightened and surprised. + +"What does it all mean, Marion?" demanded Huntington. + +"Wait, Seth, can't you?" warned Claire. Then to Marion: "There's no +hurry, dear. When you feel better." + +But her eyes denied her words. There was indeed no way out of it. +Marion must speak, and without delay. + +"I'm cold," she said, shivering. + +"Of course!" cried Claire. "Come to the fire. And Seth! Close the +door, please!" + +Huntington strode to the door, and slammed it shut. Then he returned +to the chimney piece, and watched Marion as she leaned toward the +blaze. He could barely restrain himself, waiting for her to begin. + +"I've been a silly fool, I suppose," she said presently, sitting erect +again, and facing her cousins courageously. "It was all my fault. You +mustn't blame him." + +An impatient exclamation by Huntington drew a warning glance from +Claire. + +"Tell us just what happened, dear!" she urged gently. + +"I don't exactly know--I can't just understand how it happened," +Marion began. "I had an accident--in the road. My foot was hurt--my +ankle was twisted--or I thought it was--and I was frightened." + +"An accident?" said Claire. + +"I was off my pony--the cinches were loose--and--when I tried to mount +again--I slipped--somehow--and fell. He was just in time to help me, +and--" + +"Where was that?" asked Huntington. + +"Just below his place. He was coming back--" + +"But what were you doing over there?" demanded Huntington. + +"Riding," she said calmly, perhaps a little defiantly. + +"Yes, I know that. But on his land?" + +"Did you ever tell me anything about that?" she retorted. + +"No, but--" + +"Then how was I to know?" + +"But you've heard--" + +"Yes, I heard some things at the post-office. You've told me +nothing." + +Huntington's face reddened angrily. + +"Never mind that now!" cried Claire sharply, sending another warning +look at Seth. "Go on, dear!" + +Marion went on, very carefully. With Claire alone she might have been +more frank and confiding, but Seth's belligerent attitude had begun to +stir resentment in her. + +"He thought I had a bad sprain. He was annoyed; he didn't take any +pains to conceal that from me. But he lifted me into the saddle, +and rode with me to his stable, and told one of his men to hitch +up a team, and drive me home. That would have been--all right, and he +had no intention--until--something I said--I must have been +hysterical--something made him angry, and he--said he would drive me +home himself." + +"And you let him!" cried Claire reproachfully. + +"No, I didn't _let_ him. He did it in spite of all I could do. I +pleaded with him, I tried every way to stop him. Once I started to +leap out of the trap. But he caught me. He laughed at me But he was +very angry too; he scolded me dreadfully. Said I needed to be punished +for--I don't know what. He hates women, and says we're always meddling +in men's affairs. It served me right, of course. And please remember +it was all my fault--truly!" + +"Did he say anything about making peace?" asked Claire. + +"No. That was all mine. I had to do something quickly. You know +that." + +"But what did he say about me?" growled Huntington, who was far from +satisfied, and still suspicious. + +"Not much. Oh, yes!" she added impulsively. "He said you and he could +probably come to an understanding quickly enough if--" + +She paused, embarrassed. + +"If what?" demanded Huntington. + +"That was only because he dislikes women, I think. He said--if +Claire--Mrs. Huntington, he said,--would let you alone." + +"I?" cried Claire. It was almost a scream of astonishment and +indignation. + +"I'll show him!" shouted Huntington. "He'd better keep her name out of +it, or I'll--" + +"I haven't done anything!" wailed Claire. + +"I'll make him pay for that!" bellowed Huntington, bringing his fist +down on the mantel. + +"You mustn't blame him!" protested Marion hastily. "He was angry at +me, and I don't think he's as bad as you think he is." + +"Marion!" cried Claire, her eyes widening with wonder. + +Then Marion had the misfortune to blush under Claire's curious gaze. +She blushed, at first, merely because she had gone too far in her +effort to clear Haig of responsibility for what had occurred that +evening; and then the blood stormed into her cheeks as she encountered +Claire's look, and attached a deeper meaning to it than it actually +conveyed. + +Huntington leaned forward, and gazed suspiciously into Marion's +crimsoned face. + +"Well, I'll be damned!" he broke out. "You'd think the girl was in +love with this ruffian!" + +For an instant there was a silence much like the silence that follows +a clap of thunder. Then Marion rose slowly to her feet, quivering, her +eyes ablaze. + +"Ruffian?" she cried. "If there's any ruffian it's--" + +She caught herself. She was innately gentle and fastidious, and she +could not, without shame, have forced her lips to say the things that +she felt in her outraged heart. But she looked at him; and under that +look Seth quailed and shrank. What had he said to evoke this luminous +hatred? He had not meant-- + +"And I think she's right, Seth Huntington!" exclaimed Claire, coming +to Marion, and putting an arm, around her. "If there's any ruffian +it's you, and I'm ashamed of you!" + +Huntington's jaw dropped, and he stared at them, his eyes bulging with +astonishment. Then suddenly he turned, and bolted from the room. The +door leading to the kitchen was flung shut behind him; then the outer +door banged; and in a moment his heavy footsteps were heard on the +veranda, where he strode to and fro in helpless rage and shame and +wonder. He had a feeling of soreness over all his body, as if some one +had roundly pummelled him; his face itched beneath his beard; he could +not find a comfortable place for his hands. Well, he agreed with Haig +about one thing: women were hell! And here was Claire siding with +Marion against him; and calling him a ruffian! Was he a ruffian? What +had he said to merit that? Couldn't they take a joke? But this +casuistry did not go down, though he tried to hammer it down with many +violent gestures. He began to have certain qualms that he recognized +as premonitory signs of weakening; and he struggled to bolster up his +anger. Damn Haig! If he had only finished him that day in the timber, +when the others had wanted to! But this was a vain regret. There +remained the present situation. Gradually his steps faltered. He +stopped often to look vacantly at the stars. They had nothing to say +to him. He felt very solitary, alone in the world. + +After a time the kitchen door was opened softly. + +"Seth!" came a whisper from that direction. + +"Well?" he answered uncertainly. + +"Aren't you cold?" + +"No." + +"Well, we are. The fire's going out." + +"Umph!" + +"Won't you please fetch some wood?" + +No reply. Claire slipped out, and crept up to him. + +"Come!" she commanded softly. "Do you want us to freeze?" + +Still no reply. + +"Oh, you do, do you?" + +"It's time you went to bed." + +"No, it isn't. We're not going to bed until you come in and beg +Marion's pardon." + +"No, I'll be--" + +She tried to clap her hand over his mouth, but succeeded only in +hitting his nose a smart tap, which was just as effective, since it +checked him. + +"No swearing, either!" she went on. "You've been rude enough for one +night, don't you think? I'll tell you my opinion of it later. She's +going to be easy with you because she's sorry about it all. Come!" + +Huntington did not move, or answer her. + +"Do you want her to leave by the next stage--and have this all over +the Park too--like Haig's visit? Come!" + +He groaned, but followed her. At the door of the living room he caught +sight of Marion seated before the fireplace, where only embers glowed +dull red. + +"I'll get some wood," he said quickly, glad of even a few minutes' +grace. + +Fortune tossed him a small favor: the wood bin near the kitchen door +was empty--almost. Another time that would have brought a storm down +on the head of the unlucky stable hand whose duty it was to keep the +bin filled. But now Seth rejoiced at having to go to the wood yard, +and found it much too near. + +He re-entered the house with an armload of sticks, and placed them +carefully on the embers; stirred up the glowing mass with a poker; +readjusted the fresh wood; provoked the red coals once more; and at +last, having exhausted the dilatory possibilities of the fire, stood +up clumsily to face the ordeal. + +"Well, Marion," he began awkwardly, "I'm in for it, I reckon." + +She did not reply; she only looked at him. There were dark shadows +around her eyes that heightened the pallor of her cheeks; but the eyes +themselves were clear and piercing, and as cold now as they had been +fiery before. For once in his life Huntington was conscious of his +bulk; he felt conspicuous; and the wound in his shoulder, almost +healed, began to itch and ache.--There were worse things than being +shot.--If she would only turn those eyes away from him! And then it +dawned upon him that she was waiting. + +"I beg your pardon, Marion!" he stammered. "I was ugly. I didn't +really mean--I hope you'll forgive me." + +For a minute longer she let him stew in his kettle, then lifted him +out scrupulously, at the end of a very long fork, and dropped him +steaming, as if he had been a lump of unsavory fat. + +"Yes, I forgive you," she said, very, very distantly. "You probably +weren't thinking." + +If that was forgiveness! But he did not know--even Claire did not know +then--how deeply he had wounded Marion with his rude and accusing +speech,--as if he had called a jeering crowd to look at the little +flower that blooms but once, and very secretly, in a woman's heart. +Forgive him? She never would forgive him for that blundering outburst, +which was indeed the more unforgivable because he did not seriously +mean, and certainly did not believe, the thing he said. + +"Thank you, Marion dear!" said Claire softly. + +At that Marion suddenly rushed to Claire, and knelt by her chair. She +had her own faults to be forgiven. + +"I've been very foolish!" she cried. "I've caused you pain and +humiliation. I'm sorry. Please forgive me!" + +So they cried it out in each other's arms, while Huntington rolled a +cigarette, took one whiff of it, and tossed it into the fire. It +required a stronger narcotic than tobacco to soothe his fevered +spirits. After a while he whirled around and faced the two women. + +"See here, Marion!" he said. "It's all our fault for not telling you +about Haig. But we didn't want to annoy you with our troubles, and we +never imagined you'd stumble on to him. Do you know now what this is +all about?" + +She spared him the answer that she had heard something on that point +the day of the shooting. + +"No; that is, very little." + +"Well, it's just this: Before he came here we were all playing the +game peacefully together. Each of us had just about enough land, with +the cut hay and the winter pastures, to pull through the winter, and +there was just enough free grazing up in the edges of the timber to +keep the cattle going through the summer and early fall." + +"That was government land," explained Claire. + +"And open to all of us," added Seth. "We never had any dispute with +the Englishman who owned Haig's ranch before him, and he got fair +treatment, though he wasn't here much of the time to look after it. We +heard he had some family trouble, and one day when he'd been gone a +long time--" + +"That's four years now," interrupted Claire. + +"Yes. Haig showed up, and said the ranch was his. He started in +straight off to hog the whole thing. Bought a thousand head of +cattle--that made thirteen hundred head--almost as many as all the +rest of us had put together. He turned the thirteen hundred into the +open range, and hired men to keep them moving the right way for the +good feed, and--" + +"He had a perfect right to do that, you see," Claire put in hastily. + +"Legal right, maybe," Huntington went on. "But he didn't have any real +right to more than his share. We organized, bunched our cattle, and +stayed with 'em. That way we were stronger than he, and soon had his +cattle starving. Then he disappeared, and we didn't see anything of +him for three weeks. And what do you suppose the damned skunk--" + +"Seth!" cried Claire warningly, with an anxious look at Marion. + +Marion merely shook her head. + +"Well, he fooled us. He went to Denver, got a lawyer on the job, +looked up the records, found there'd been a mistake in the surveys, +and came back to us with a government deed to almost half the forest +reserve that we'd been using as free pasture. Then he ordered us off, +and we went, with six Winchesters pointed at our fool backs. What do +you think of that, Marion?" + +"But why?" asked Marion. "I mean what was his motive in all that? He +isn't a cattleman. I mean--I don't think he cares enough--" + +She stopped, finding herself in dangerous waters. + +"Why? Because he's a--" Huntington checked himself. "Anyhow, he barely +escaped a lynching that night. And if he only knew it, I'm the one +that stopped it. I said we'd find some other way. But we haven't found +it. We had to bring most of our stock down to the pastures we needed +for winter, and in winter we had to buy hay at eighteen dollars a ton. +And Haig had hay to sell. Three of our men were driven out of +business. Tom Jenkins, being dead broke and discouraged, with a +family, killed himself. I had to sell off a third of my cattle, and +twenty head disappeared, and I never saw them again. And maybe you can +understand now how I felt when I saw him this evening, standing there +in my own house, grinning at me. God!" + +He turned, grabbed up the poker, and began jabbing viciously at the +fire. + +Yes, Marion could understand that, but--She was not satisfied. There +was something missing from Seth's narrative. Haig's accusations that +day at the post-office--his missing cattle, and the cut wires at the +Forbidden Pasture--And if all that Seth had said was true, which she +doubted, the mystery was only deepened. She was sure that Haig was +only playing a part, that he was not a cattleman by choice, and that +his heart was not in the game, whatever it was. She wanted to ask +questions, but refrained, lest she should again arouse Seth's +suspicions. She would see Smythe. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL + + +The next afternoon Huntington, with painful diffidence, yet anxious to +come to some sort of terms with Marion, proposed that she should begin +her shooting lessons. She acquiesced in a manner that relieved him +immensely, for she, on her side, was sorely in need of distraction. So +they were presently on the hillside behind the ranch house with the +rifles,--Seth's Winchester and the little Savage he had bought for +Claire, who, to his great disappointment, did not like guns, and never +could be taught to see the sights with one eye closed. His delight, +therefore, was unbounded when Marion took to the Savage with almost +the quick adaptability of a man. True, her first shots went high and +wild among the foliage, but she was fast getting the grip of the gun, +and had actually once scraped the bark of the tree on which the target +of white paper was tacked, when they were hailed by a cheerful voice +demanding permission for an unarmed and perfectly harmless man to +approach. + +"Smythe!" growled Huntington, resenting the interruption. Then aloud, +as heartily as he could: "Hello, Smythe! You're quite safe." + +"What's going on here, anyhow?" asked Smythe. + +"Where are your boasted powers of observation?" retorted Marion. + +"It's more polite to ask." + +"In Paradise Park?" she queried, in a tone of mild surprise. + +Seth's face reddened as he stooped over a half-empty cartridge-box. He +had congratulated himself too soon. But while Smythe and Marion +exchanged more badinage he refilled the magazine of the Savage, and +held it ready. + +"Will you have another try?" he asked. + +"Yes, please, if Mr. Smythe will only keep still. I know I can never +hit anything if he talks." + +"I'm mum!" he answered. + +The first shot went wild. So, indeed, the second and third. + +"There! What did I tell you?" cried Marion petulantly. + +"But I didn't say a word!" protested Smythe. + +"What were you thinking, then?" + +"What a charming Diana--" + +"Don't think any more, please!" + +"But I can't stop thinking!" + +"In that case you'd better talk. You certainly talk enough without +thinking." + +"Bull's-eye!" he cried joyously. "Now try again!" + +"I suppose I must learn not to be bothered." + +She pressed her lips together, and steadied herself resolutely. She +would show him! The next shot cut a furrow in the bark of the pine; +the second struck within two inches of the target; and the third +pinked the edge of the paper itself. + +"That will do for this time," she said, in some elation, as she handed +the gun to Huntington. + +"To-morrow you'll do better," he assured her. "And then we'll try it +at longer range." + +He began to pick up the cartridge boxes and his own rifle. + +"You're not riding to-day?" said Smythe. + +"How did you guess it?" she demanded, laughing. + +"Oh, a truce! A truce!" he pleaded. "I mean, if you are not going for +a ride, will you walk up the hill there?" + +He pointed toward the pines. + +"Why?" + +"To please me," he answered. + +But she caught a look in his eyes that decided her. + +"Certainly, if you are so easily pleased." + +"Oh, I'm a very Lazarus at the table of life!" he retorted gaily. +"Every crumb comforts me." + +She laughed, and stepped away with him among the rocks, while +Huntington, still swearing at Smythe for a meddling fool, strode down +the hill. + +Marion surmised that Smythe had something to say to her. Had he heard +already? Had the news of yesterday's comedy, that was so near a +tragedy, already spread far and wide over the Park? But that was +scarcely possible, since Haig's men would be silent, and Seth had kept +Williams too busy all day for gossip. + +They climbed the rocky slope without more words, clambering over +bowlders and fallen tree trunks, until they reached the summit of the +hill, and flung themselves down, hot and panting, on a great flat rock +that commanded a sweeping view of the Park. At one side more hills +rose, small mountains in themselves, thickly wooded, with white peaks +towering behind. On the other, the valley of the Brightwater lay green +and bronze in the sun, with the white stream curling and curving among +the meadows. Far across the valley, beyond the ridge that divided the +Park in unequal halves--that fateful ridge!--the western range of +mountains glittered, dazzling white. + +Marion's eyes at once sought out Thunder Mountain. What would it say +to her to-day? Storm! Its top was half-hidden in a gray-black swirl of +clouds, though the sun was bright on the snow-clad peaks around it. + +"What do you see?" asked Smythe, as soon as his lungs would consent to +speech. + +"My mountain," she answered, without turning her head. + +"Which is that?" + +"Thunder Mountain." + +"Umph! You're welcome to it!" + +She was silent. + +"Why your mountain?" he asked presently. + +"I don't know." + +"But there must be a reason--or something." + +"That's just it--something. It's hideous, but it fascinates me. I +can't help thinking that--" + +"That what?" + +"I don't know." + +They laughed together. + +"It's got a bad reputation," said Smythe. + +"Perhaps that's the reason." + +Then she was embarrassed, thinking unexpectedly of another bad +reputation in the Park. + +"Perhaps," he answered, smiling at the back of her head, where the +tawny hair curved up adorably from the soft, white neck. + +"Tell me about it!" she said at length. + +"It's a death trap." + +"You mean--men have gone up there?" + +"Oh, yes!" + +"How?" + +"There's a trail, what's left of it. The Warpath, they call it." + +"The Warpath?" + +"Yes. It was first a war trail, when fighting tribes lived in these +mountains. But even the Indians didn't use it often--only in +midsummer. It's a trail over bare rocks, marked by stones set up at +long intervals. The Indians didn't mark it. They had their own ways of +knowing it. But after the Indians came trappers, hunters, prospectors, +and some of them set up the stones. It would be a valuable short cut +between the Park and the San Luis country, if it were safe. But it's +not. I'm told that many lives have been lost on it. I can't find +details except of one tragedy. Some ten years ago a party of English +people, guests at the ranch that Haig now owns, went on a pleasure +trip to Thunder Mountain. They meant to go only as far as timber line. +It's not difficult as far as the foot of the scarp that lifts to the +flat top you see yonder. It's done on horseback to that point--and +across too, if you care to try it. But on top--that's another matter. +It isn't the mountain itself that gets you. It's the storms. The +English party ventured on top, and three of them never came back. The +wind hurled them into a chasm, and their bodies were never recovered. +That's enough for me, thank you!" + +"Has nobody in the Park ever been across?" Marion persisted. + +"Old Parker--Jim Parker's father--crossed it once, many years ago. But +he came back another way, around by Tellurium. Young Parker has been +as far as the Devil's Chair. That's the top of the notch where the +wind sucks you into it--unless, by good chance, it blows you away from +it." + +"And no one else?" Marion insisted, breathless. + +"One other man has gone to the Twin Sisters. That's halfway over." + +"Who was that?" she asked; as if she did not know. + +"He balked at the women, you see." + +Smythe chuckled. + +"The Twin Sisters," Smythe went on, "are two huge gray rocks, I'm +told, vaguely resembling carved figures. The trail passes between +them. There's no other possible way, and when the wind is blowing it +shoots out between them like water from a fire-hose. Haig was caught +just there by a storm. He came back fighting mad, and swore he'd cross +Thunder Mountain yet, or die there. But that reminds me. I've got news +for you." + +"News?" asked Marion, with a start. + +Her first thought was of Sunnysides. Had Haig decided not to wait for +Farrish? But no! It would be something about yesterday's sensation. + +"It keeps well, I see," she said lightly. + +"I didn't want to excite you so soon after that long climb." + +"Thank you! If you think I can't stand it you just keep it to +yourself--if you can!" + +"But I came expressly to tell you." + +"Then why don't you expressly tell me? Don't be exasperating, Mr. +Smythe!" + +He grinned exultantly. + +"Well," he said, "I've been eavesdropping." + +"What?" + +"Not intentionally. Pure accident. But I didn't stick my fingers in my +ears." + +"No, I can understand that." + +"Thanks. It was this way: I was fishing--for fish, really. Under a +clump of willows, just where the road from Haig's joins the main +valley road. You know?" + +"Yes, yes!" + +"Haig and another man, Higgins, it turned out to be--he's a Denver +lawyer--with his family for an outing down at Cobalt Lake. It appeared +he'd been up to see Haig partly on business and partly just for a +friendly visit. They separated there, after a little conversation. + +"'It's strange you've never heard a word from him,' said Higgins. + +"'Four years,' answered Haig. + +"'He's probably off in South Africa somewhere.' + +"'Or India. It's a long trail be followed, no doubt.' + +"'You can only wait, I suppose,' Higgins said. + +"'Well, I've nothing else to do,' Haig replied, with a laugh." Smythe +paused. + +"That's something to think about," he said musingly. "Who is this +'he'? And why is Haig waiting for him? Well, that was all I heard +about that. Higgins next asked Haig if he wouldn't please change his +mind about riding down to see them. + +"'No,' Haig answered. 'I never go anywhere. I'm not very sociable, no +longer a gregarious creature. Ask my neighbors about that!' + +"'Oh, hang your neighbors! This is different. We're not living here, +and we can't pester you. But you see I got Hail Columbia from my wife +for not bringing you to see her in Denver, and she's dead set on +getting acquainted with you here. She says you're the most unselfish +man in the world. I'd be jealous if--' + +"'Oh, come now!' protested Haig, laughing. + +"'It's true. So you'll drop this hermit business for once, won't you? +It will give my wife much pleasure.' + +"There was a little silence. + +"'Well, have your own way,' said Haig at last 'I suppose a man's got +to humor his lawyer, if he doesn't want to lose a plain case some day. +But I warn you. I'm not very amusing, that is, I trust not.' + +"'Good!' cried Higgins. 'We'll not keep you long. The day after +to-morrow, shall we say? Right! Now good-by! And don't let Huntington +pot you--before you've seen Mrs. Higgins.' + +"They both laughed at that. Higgins drove off down the valley in his +road wagon, and Haig galloped toward home. And then I found a trout +had run away with my hook. Big fellow too, and clever as Satan. +Scuttled away under a rock and worked loose before I could get after +him. But it was a good day's fishing just the same, don't you think?" + +She did not reply at once; and Smythe discreetly busied himself +tossing stones at an impertinent chipmunk that popped in and out among +the rocks and fallen limbs. + +"Have you seen this Mrs. Higgins?" asked Marion suddenly. + +"No," Smythe answered gravely, though his eyes twinkled wickedly. "But +Higgins is sixty at least, and I fancy his wife's too old to be--" A +warning look checked him. "But really, Miss Gaylord, you ought not to +jump down my throat after I've brought you such an interesting knot +for your pretty hands to untie." + +She laughed at his lugubrious countenance, then stood up, and reached +out a hand to him, letting him hold it for just a breath of time. + +"No, you're a good friend. I know it." + +"I'm not very deep," he said, with a touch of dejection. "Nobody ever +takes me very seriously. But I hope you'll trust me!" + +"Indeed I will! But come! We must go back." + +So they went slipping and sliding down the hill, digging their heels +into the ground, clinging to rocks and trees to check their swift +descent, laughing at their wild plunges and gyrations. At the house, +when they had rested a while on the veranda, Marion dismissed Smythe +as quickly as she could without abruptness; and when he had gone she +hastened to her room, and locked the door, and flung herself down on +the bed, with her hands clasped behind her head, to stare up at the +ceiling in a whirl of thoughts. There was a mystery! There was a +motive behind Haig's conduct! "The most unselfish man in the world" +And she repeated the words over and over again, and gathered them to +her heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +AVALANCHE + + +Huntington soon had his revenge on Marion, though, in his blindness, +he never knew it. She and Claire, after an unusually protracted Small +Talk the night before, arose late one morning to find the house +topsy-turvy from masculine activity. On the veranda they discovered +Seth cleaning rifles, surrounded by cartridge boxes, hunting knives, +canvas bags and wrappings, rubber coats, leather straps, fishing +tackle and what not. + +"In the name of goodness, Seth Huntington! What are you doing?" +shrilled Claire. + +"Guess!" replied Huntington, with a rather heavy attempt at +tantalizing. + +"Oh, I know! Camping. But you don't mean to-day?" + +"Sure!" + +"But why didn't you ask us?" demanded Claire. "Maybe we don't +choose--" + +"But you do, though. I promised Marion that as soon as I--" + +He stopped, for even his habitually veiled eyes could not miss the +look of consternation on Marion's face. + +"Why--I thought--" he began uncertainly. "Of course, if you don't want +to go--" + +The oiled rag dropped from his hand. His descent from elation (he had +planned a little surprise) to dejection and chagrin was a tumble that +touched Marion's commiseration and disarmed her. She did not want to +go camping; she did not want to leave the Park for even a day, an +hour; she did not want to miss any opportunity to see Haig. More than +ever now was she determined to solve his mystery. So Huntingdon's +"surprise" was a greater shock to her than he, simple man, could +possibly have foreseen or perceived. But even if she had not been +moved by his rather ludicrous disappointment she would not have dared +to refuse acquiescence in his programme. She had indeed expressed an +ardent--oh, too ardent!--desire to go camping, and any explanation she +could think of on the instant would have led her into regions where +she could not trust herself. + +"Indeed, I want to go!" she cried quickly, though there was a big lump +in her throat. "You took me by surprise, that's all." + +"I should say so!" said Claire. "Think you're smart, don't you? We +might have been all dressed for it if you'd only told us. When do we +start, Big Boss?" + +Huntington recovered his good spirits quickly, assured that he had +succeeded after all. + +"I thought we'd ride to Ely's to-day, sleep there to-night, and make +Mount Avalanche to-morrow evening." + +"Then we must hurry," said Claire. "Come, Marion." + +"How long--shall we be gone?" asked Marion, struggling to appear +enthusiastic. + +"Four or five days, I suppose." + +Her heart sank. She could have cried with vexation. But she managed to +conceal her real feelings in the bustle of preparation. There were +provisions to be packed: cans and jars and bottles; bacon and ham and +flour against the possible event of bad luck with the guns and rods; +warm clothes and bedding; medicines and bandages. So fully occupied +were her hands and brain with these details, and later with her first +real experience with the mountain trails, that her heart must perforce +keep its peace until some hour of solitude. + +Toward five o'clock of the second day they reached their destination,--a +grassy shelf a little below timber line on Mount Avalanche. There, in +some past age, an avalanche of titanic proportions had carried away +part of the mountain itself; and they camped now on the top of the +débris, long since concealed by a dense forest growth, as if nature had +employed her utmost arts to hide the wound. Marion could not but yield a +little to emotions of delight and wonder. On that high platform she +stood above a marvelous mountain world, below another mountain world as +marvelous. Behind her Avalanche reared sheer and sharp and white +against the sky. On either side were snow-clad peaks. At her feet +were forests in solid masses of green, now darkening in the +twilight. And beyond, far, far beyond, the Park they had left lay +bright under the sun's after-glow, with a background of range on range +of mountains in their violet haze. On the shelf was forage for the +horses; near at hand were moss and balsam for their beds; and at a +little distance a rivulet, ice-cold, had shady pools where small +trout awaited capture. And the air was like dry wine on the lips, with +a tang of resin in the nostrils; and the woods sang a song that even +Marion could not resist. + +Here they pitched two tents just large enough to cover the beds of +balsam boughs and moss and blankets. In the three days they passed in +camp Marion learned many things that were to be of incalculable value +to her one day, though she never could have guessed that all this too, +like the encounter in the Forbidden Pasture, had been ordered in the +Beginning, details in the Scheme of Things. She learned surprising +secrets of makeshift cookery; she learned the Indian's lesson of a +very little fire; she learned the mountaineer's economy of matches and +like precious articles. She fished in the small pools that lay hidden +away in dark recesses of the forest, practised shooting with her +rifle, and on the third day, in the timber below the camp, with Seth +at her side, brought down her first deer. + +"I told you!" cried Huntington, delighted at the progress of his +pupil. + +But her heart was not in all this; it was clamoring now to be heard, +and would by no means be stilled. Each evening Marion walked apart +from the others, to stand at the edge of the lofty platform, and watch +her green and violet Elysium swallowed up in night. Each morning she +searched for it through her field glasses to assure herself that it +had not vanished in the dark. And when the last day of their outing +came, the last evening, the last night, she could scarce contain her +impatience. To-morrow they would start; and the day after-- + +She could not sleep that night. Every twig and every needle of her +pine mattress seemed to have conspired to torture her. She tossed +about until she could no longer endure her bed; and in the middle of +the night she crept out of the tent, and sat, wrapped in a blanket, +before the smouldering embers of the fire. The hobbled horses grazed +not far away; a night bird twitted solitarily in the brush; and from +the depths of the forest came the scream of some savage creature out +on its kill. Against the star-crowded sky the peaks stood up cold and +impassive. What cared they? What did the world care? What did Philip +care? + +For now she knew that she loved him. Yes, yes, she loved him! In her +heart she had known it from the beginning, since that meeting in the +Forbidden Pasture, had known it as one knows things without +acknowledgment. Her mind had acknowledged only the hundred reasons why +she should not, could not love him. He had repelled her; he had not +veiled his meaning, had not concealed his antagonism; he had told her +plainly, brutally almost, that he would not endure her presence, that +she must avoid his side of the Park. + +Then she thought of Robert,--Robert, so devoted and so true. What was +she doing: throwing away his love that was so unselfishly, so +whole-heartedly laid at her feet? Had she been mad to flee from him? +Yes, mad! Pride rose to support the fondness and the admiration she +had felt for him. And so there ensued a struggle between the two fine +spirits that dwelt in her,--the proud little lady of the Fragonard and +the Viking with red hair. + +The Viking won. Had not her father said to her, in those long talks +about her mother, that love is the only thing? And back she came, on +swiftest wings of passion, to Philip; and she was glad. She knew now +the meaning of her restlessness in the dark days in the unheeding +city; she knew whose voice had called, whose arms had held her, though +he was unaware. He needed her, though he did not know it. And she had +come to him, without understanding. Somewhere she had read a fugitive +bit of verse that had meant nothing then, and had been forgotten until +now, when it suddenly sang across the years and the spaces like a call +to courage: + + "The wild wind bloweth + The cross of fire. + The wild heart knoweth + Its own desire." + +The wild heart knoweth its own desire! She rose to her feet with a +singing and a resurrection of her heart. She scarcely knew that her +limbs were stiff and that her body ached with cold. Her spirit was +aroused. She could not go and take Philip as her father had taken the +one he loved. But there were ways; when had a woman ever failed, in +love, of finding them? She set herself to thinking, planning, +scheming, while she walked swiftly to and fro before the tents. And +presently she stopped her pacing, and looked curiously around her. +There had come a subtle alteration in the aspect of the night. A +shivering freshness had crept insensibly into the air. Leaves and +grass and the very air appeared to be astir, though the silence and +the darkness were as before. She looked up eagerly at the sky, and saw +that the stars were pale. It was not yet the dawn; it was only the +passing of the night. But the dawn was near. The dawn! The dawn! + +She did not wish Seth to find her there. He would ask questions, +staring at her. She crept stealthily back into her tent, and lay +there, shaking with cold, to wait for the noise that Huntington would +make as he sought for live embers in the ashes of the fire. + + * * * * * + +Once out of the mountains and in the foothills, she rode far ahead of +Seth and Claire, impatient at the slow progress necessitated by the +difficulties of the pack horses. Late in the afternoon she found +herself at a fork of the road with which she was familiar. A little +way up the less-used of the two branches there was a glade where +columbines grew in extraordinary profusion. She had gathered armloads +of them there, and seemed scarcely to have touched the edge of that +wild garden where nature had been seized with a prodigal impulse. And +now, rather to be doing something than to await in irritation for Seth +and Claire, she turned her pony's head and rode toward the glade. In +five minutes she was fording a little stream, beyond which the road +rose slightly to cross the shoulder of a hill, and dipped again to run +in a sharp curve along the margin of the glade. She took the rise at a +gallop, sped down the other slope, and at the curve of the road reined +up her horse with a startled cry. She had come suddenly upon a team +hitched at the side of the road,--the sorrels and the trap in which +Philip Haig had driven her to Huntington's that terrible evening. + +For a moment she was bereft of thought and feeling. At that very +instant she had been thinking of him; what instant was she not +thinking of him? But the utterly unexpected encounter--for he was +there somewhere, in the glade, no doubt--swept away all that courage +she had found on Avalanche. She felt suddenly helpless, inert, +afraid; and before she could regain her self-possession, call back her +high resolve, the bushes at the roadside parted, and Philip stood +before her. He bore a great bouquet of columbines, their stems wrapped +in damp moss and leaves and tied securely with a string. At sight of +her he halted; and that look of annoyance she had seen him wear in the +road below his ranch house came again into his pale face. For some +seconds they regarded each other in silence. + +"True," he said at length, with a smile that tortured her, "this is +not my side of the Ridge. I am the trespasser, even though this is +public domain. You have as much right here as I--more, since I said +the Ridge was the dividing line. So--" + +He stepped quickly to her horse's side, pressed the great bunch of +pale-blue flowers into her limp but obedient hands, lifted his +battered hat, turned on his heel, walked directly to the trap, leaped +into the seat, and drove swiftly away. She watched him dully until he +was out of sight behind a bend in the road, among the trees; watched +the spot where he had disappeared until it became a blur to her aching +eyes. Then she looked slowly down at the flowers in her hands. +Columbines! Frail, lovely things, the fairest product, she had +thought, of nature's laboratory, reflecting the infinite, ineffable +blue of God's skies, delicate as the flower that had bloomed with such +wonderful, unexpected beauty in her own heart! How she could have +treasured them, wept over them, hugged them to her breast, if he had +given them to her in another way. Slowly her fingers relaxed. The +flowers fell into the dust of the road. She stared down, at them a +moment; and then, with a cry, leaped from her horse, picked them up +eagerly, clasped them to her breast, buried her face in them, and +watered them with her tears. + + * * * * * + +Seth said he guessed he would ride down to the post-office before +supper; yesterday was mail day; might be something. Marion was glad of +his departure, and to avoid Claire was not difficult, considering what +baths, and changing of linen, and brushing of hair they required after +their outing. Refreshed and rested, they had scarcely met before the +new-lighted fire at twilight when Seth returned, stamping vigorously +into the room. + +"You're the lucky one, Marion," he said. + +He fumbled in his pockets, and finally produced a letter. She took it, +glanced at it, and let it fall into her lap. A great stillness seemed +to have come upon the world. She appeared to be looking at Seth and +Claire across great distances. She could hear her heart pounding in +her bosom, like something that hammered for freedom. Ages seemed to +have passed before she was able to rise slowly, to smile, to beg to be +excused a moment. In her room she stood quite still, mechanically tore +open the envelope, and read: + + Dear Marion: You told me not to write, and I have obeyed till now. + Don't scold, please! You see I am in Denver. It's business. + Honest! A mining deal, just for a flyer. It may mean millions or + nothing. I am here for several days, possibly weeks. Won't you + _please_ let me run up to see you? Don't say no, Marion. I promise + to be good. I have an auto here, and they tell me the roads are + O. K. at this season. I'll come away the minute you tell me to. If + I can see you only for an hour it will make me very happy. + + Yours always, + Robert. + +She read it twice, while the color slowly returned to her cheeks. Then +the letter faded from her sight, and she saw a face that wore a cruel +smile, and heard a voice that bade her begone. And suddenly a wave of +resentment, of anger, swept over her. To have been scorned, flouted, +humiliated by one to whom--And here was a man who wanted her as he +wanted nothing else in the world, who would toil for her, die for her, +who would treasure every word and smile she should consent to give +him, whose one desire was to make her happy. What madness had come +over her that she--she the Viking's daughter--Her eyes were drawn, she +knew not how, to the columbines that she had carefully, tenderly +arranged in a bowl on her dressing table. In a passion she rushed upon +them, snatched them up dripping, bore them to the open window, and +flung them with all her strength out upon the lawn. A moment she stood +looking at them, her hands clutched upon her heaving breast, her whole +body quivering with the storm that raged within her. Then she whirled +around, flung herself down at her little writing table, and wrote: + + Dear Robert: Yes, come. MARION. + +Her hand trembled now so that she could scarcely address the envelope, +and seal it. But it was done at last. She rose, and paused a moment to +collect herself. Her mouth was dry, her forehead was hot under the +hand that she pressed upon it. Nervously she poured a glass of water +from the crystal pitcher that stood on a little table by the window, +and gulped it down. Her eyes, as she did so, fell again upon the +bouquet of columbines lying forlorn, their tender faces half buried in +the dry grass. A cry rose to her lips, but she forced it back, and +with a tightening of her lips, turned and went rapidly out into the +room where Seth and Claire awaited her. + +"What do you think?" she cried, in a voice that sounded strangely +shrill and unmusical in her ears. "It's from Robert--Robert +Hillyer--Papa's good friend--and mine. He wants to come up and see +me--he's in Denver--on business. He wants to come up--he says--just +for a day or two--do you mind--if I ask him?" + +"Of course, dear!" cried Claire, with enthusiasm. + +"Sure!" seconded Seth. "Tell him he's very welcome." + +"I knew you'd say that!" said Marion excitedly. "So--the letter--it's +all ready. Can it go out--the stage goes to-morrow, doesn't it?" + +"Yes," replied Huntington. "I'll take it down in the morning--before +you're up." + +"Please!" + +She stood a moment, smiling at them. Then her eyes wandered aimlessly +around the room. She must do something quick, or she would go to +pieces. She saw the piano, and fairly ran to it. Crash! went the +chords. Rippling and tumbling on one another came the notes under her +nervous fingers. Out of the jumble of unrelated sounds presently +emerged a gay and sparkling melody; and then a gayer one; and after +that a rollicking song from one of the latest musical comedies. There +followed two of the sauciest, most irresponsible tunes that ever made +a vaudeville success. She played with abandon, a kind of reckless +fury, sitting erect, with her head flung back, an insouciant smile +flickering about her lips, her lithe body swaying with the music. Then +suddenly, in the midst of a tune, she stopped, arose, faced Seth and +Claire with flaming cheeks and eyes unnaturally bright. + +"Great, Marion!" cried Seth, slapping his thigh. "Go on, please!" + +But Claire had seen what Huntington had not. She turned to him +swiftly, with a quick command, as if she had suddenly remembered +something. + +"I've clean forgot that pie, Seth. Go to the cave and bring me some +apples. Quick, now!" + +He sensed something a little queer in that order, which would have +been very natural and pleasing at any other time, but he did not stop +to question. Claire waited until the door had closed behind him, then +ran to Marion, with anxiety pictured in her face. + +"What is it, Marion?" she exclaimed. + +"Oh, Claire, Claire!" cried Marion, breaking. "I'm so--so--unhappy!" + +Then she flung herself into Claire's arms, weeping without restraint. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +SUNNYSIDES + + +Marion was not alone in her misery; but knowledge of this, had it by +any chance come to her, would not have eased her heart, though it +might indeed have hardened it a little against more suffering to +come. + +Toward bedtime of the eighth day after that encounter at the glade of +the columbines, Philip Haig sat stiffly silent in his armchair, +staring into the fire. His brow was dark with discontent, his cheeks +had paled with the slow ebbing of the tide of passion that had swept +over him. It had begun to rise, though he was not then aware of it, or +barely aware of it, the day Marion had halted him in the road below +his ranch house; it had reached its flood as he drove away from her +and left the bouquet of columbines in her limp hands. + +Who was this girl? And why had she come to torture him? To him she now +appeared as the incarnation of his tragedy. In her the Past, from +which he had fled to the far corners of the earth, hiding his trail in +seas and deserts and in stagnant backwaters of humanity, had tracked +him down at last. And all the grief and bitterness and hatred that he +had beaten down, or thought he had beaten down, had returned to rend +and tear him. + +Two beings he had loved, and to them he had given, to each in a +different way, all his heart and soul and mind: his father and--that +other. She had come to him at his most susceptible age, when, devoted +only to art, he knew nothing of the world--a green boy, the wise ones +had called him. She had come to him with all the surprise and wonder +of a revelation, a coronation, a fulfillment, a golden epiphany. He +had attributed to her such spiritual perfections as should have +gone with her beauty and her grace; worshipped her for all that she +was not and all that he was himself. And she had deceived him, +exploited him, plundered him,--and laughed at him when by chance, one +tragic, intolerable night, he found her out. And the next morning, +as if his cup were not already full, he had received a cablegram, +in his attic studio in Paris, telling him that his father had killed +himself in a moment of despair over financial difficulties. So he +had killed his father with his excessive demands for money to +squander on 'Tonite. To be sure, he did not know--had had no hint +from home--had never guessed that his father was in trouble. +Nevertheless he had killed him--rather, she had killed him. What a +fool he had been! Never such another fool since God placed man and +woman together in one world. Cursing himself and her, and in her +cursing all her sex, he fled--he knew not where. So stunned and +dazed he was that he never really came to himself, found himself, +until one day he awoke in Hong Kong. + +That was the beginning of the new life, if such it might be called. He +became a wanderer, an adventurer, seeking always new faces, new +places, new experiences, trying always to forget, hoping always for a +blessed knock on the head in some mad undertaking, for a thin knife in +the back in some wild adventure. But in all his wanderings the one +kind of adventure that he refused, the one excitement that he +steadfastly shunned, was the one that, because of his very aloofness, +and of something that women ever saw in his eyes, was offered to him +the most freely, in every land beneath the sun. + +Slim Jim entered, bringing whisky and hot water. Haig turned his head +to look at him. Jim never changed, whatever his environment; he was +always the Orient, the inscrutable East. And now, slipping in so +stealthily, he seemed to bring with him an atmosphere, an odor, a +call, and Haig, still looking at Jim, but scarcely seeing him, began +to murmur lines that intoxicated him: + + "I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are, + But man can have the sun for friend, and for his guide a star; + And there's no end of voyaging when once the voice is heard, + For the river calls and the road calls, and--" + +He stopped and sat suddenly erect. + +"Jim!" he cried. "Do you remember the night we took old Kwang's girl +away from the river rats in Tien-Tsin?" + +"Vellee well," answered the Chinaman. + +His face was expressionless; he concealed the joy that this mood of +his master aroused in his thin breast. Jim did not like the Park, and +only the recollection of one day when he had stood tied to a capstan +on a pirate junk, with a dozen fiends around him trying to make him +tell something he did not know, and Haig had suddenly descended upon +them like the foreign devil he was,--well, Jim took his gods where he +found them, and from that day Haig had never been able to rid himself +of this idolater. + +"Tien-Tsin! Tien-Tsin!" Haig repeated, lingering covetously on the +words. "But that was a fight, eh!" + +"No likee!" replied Jim. + +"No likee!" cried Haig. "Why, you hypocritical young ruffian, you! +That was one of the happiest nights of your life. You're always trying +to make people think you're asleep, or timid. I can see, right now, +that long knife of yours slip under my arm, and catch the big fellow +in the stomach. He just coughed once, and crumpled up at my feet. In +the nick of time, too, Jim, and I let the next one have it. The rest +of them took to their heels, and you with your long pigsticker after +them. No likee! Jim, you're a moon-faced old liar, and a disgrace to +your ten thousand and seven ancestors." + +Jim's smile was perfectly noncommittal. He was too wily to appear +eager. Besides, he did not really like fighting, which made all the +more trouble for somebody when he had to fight. But he was heartily +sick of this cold and uneventful life in the Park. Better a thousand +times the foolish adventures, the unnecessary battles, the restless +wanderings of other days! + +"That was a night!" said Haig, flinging himself back in his chair to +gaze dreamily into the flames, while Jim, like a blue ghost, stole +noiselessly away. And there, in the glow of the dying fire, bright +and alluring visions successively took shape: A red-and-yellow temple +on a hill, to which a thousand steps led up from a lake the color of a +blue heron's breast; a junk with sails of purple creeping out of a +morning mist as yellow as saffron; an island with a still lagoon in +its center, and coconut palms alive with screaming parrots of every +gorgeous hue; a sandy beach where jabbering natives dragged the +flotsam of a wrecked steamer out of the breakers; a village on a high +plateau, where a drum throbbed incessantly, and naked Indian children +peered out from behind the huts; a skirmish line in khaki crawling up +to the brow of a shell-swept hill; a dog-team yelping under the long +lash of a half-breed Aleut, on a frozen river that sparkled in the +sun; a sweating jungle where two bright spots glowed balefully in the +gloom. + +"God!" groaned Haig, as he sat erect at last, and reached for the +glass, now cold. He tasted it, and set it back with a wry face. + +"Damn Thursby!" he muttered. "Does he think I'm going to stay here +forever, like a bear in a pit?" + +He woke the next morning in an ugly humor, having slept little, and +then only to dream such dreams as fed his discontent. He berated Jim +because the biscuits were cold (which was not Jim's fault), and +because the coffee was hot (which was according to his orders). +Trivial annoyances, most of them of his own making or imagining, +multiplied on all sides, fomenting his irritability until, by the time +he strode out of the cottage, his temper was at white heat. What might +have happened to the patient, devoted men about the stable and +corrals is not difficult of conjecture, but they were saved by +Sunnysides. Almost the first object that caught Haig's eye was the +yellow outlaw gleaming in the morning sunlight. + +"Ah!" he exclaimed. + +His inner turmoil of these last few days had banished all thought of +the stallion of the San Luis. But now, his eyes gleamed as he +quickened his steps toward the stable. + +Farrish and Pete were at work among the stalls; Bill stood guard over +Sunnysides; and the fourth man, Curly, was mending a saddle in the +harness-room. + +"Farrish!" Haig called out, striding into the stable. "We'll tackle +the yellow fellow this morning." + +Farrish and Pete turned, and looked at him curiously. + +"All right!" answered Farrish; and then added doubtfully: "Now?" + +"Yes. At once." + +Farrish, in a manner that showed a certain reluctance, put up the +currycomb with which he had been grooming the sorrels, and started +toward the rear door. But Pete stood still. + +"You too, Pete!" said Haig, impatiently. + +"I think you better not--to-day," answered the Indian, in his slow +way. + +"Why?" snapped Haig. + +Pete had seen the expression on Haig's face, and did not like it. But +he hesitated to utter what was in his mind. + +"Why?" repeated Haig. + +"I think you better wait," was all that Pete could say. + +"Hell!" cried Haig. "Get your lariat! And be quick about it!" + +He had read Pete's thought; his ill-humor had evidently shown itself +in his face; but the caution only whetted his purpose. Throwing off +his coat as he went, he passed through the rear door of the barn, and +climbed into the outlaw's corral, followed by Farrish, Curly, and +Pete. + +Sunnysides received them with suspicion. His head was high, his +nostrils were dilated, his tail swished slowly, like a tiger's. One +forefoot was raised a little, resting on the toe, and the muscles of +his shoulders quivered under the glossy hide. He had fully recovered +from the effects of his rough treatment on the road, and his skin +shone with a satin-like luster in the morning sun. + +There was a moment's pause, while Haig and the others looked at the +horse, and he at them. + +"Now then, Farrish! Pete!" commanded Haig. + +And the battle began. Farrish and Pete turn by turn flung their +lariats at the horse's head and feet, but time after time he dodged, +and ducked, and capered away from the whirling noose, or wriggled out +of the coil as it tightened around him. + +"He's greased lightning!" ejaculated Bill, from his perch on the +fence. + +"He's hell, that's what he is!" retorted Curly, from a corner of the +corral. + +Farrish and Pete went silently on with their work. They knew that +eventually, dance and squirm as he might, the horse would be caught in +one or the other of the relentless loops. And so it proved. While +Sunnysides was side-stepping a throw by Farrish, Pete's rope slipped +snakily over his head, and tightened around the arched neck. With an +artful lunge toward the Indian, and a lowering of his head, the horse +struggled to throw off the coil. But it held. + +Then followed a mad performance. The horse was over all the corral at +once, it seemed: rearing, plunging, leaping, tossing his head, +crashing into the fence with such fury that it barely stood up under +his onslaughts. Bill was knocked off the fence backward on to his +head; Curly, crowded into his corner, barely avoided a vicious kick; +and Haig's temper was not improved by the narrow escape he had from +being crushed against a post. + +"Bill!" he yelled. "Get a rope!" + +The man ran into the barn, returned with a lariat, and joined the +fray. Plainly chagrined, though unhurt by his fall, Bill took long +chances to even up the score; and under the very hoofs of the +infuriated animal, he made a throw that brought Sunnysides sprawling +on the ground, his forefeet caught in Bill's noose. It was the work of +a few seconds then for Farrish to secure the hind feet also; and the +horse lay prostrate, panting and half-choked, but defiant still. + +Giving him no time to recover, and no more breath than he actually +required, Haig and Curly forced the bit of a bridle into the outlaw's +foaming mouth. Then the noose on his hind feet was cautiously removed, +one forefoot was freed, and the horse was allowed to rise. The next +proceeding appeared to be resented by Sunnysides even more than what +he had already been subjected to. While Farrish and Pete held his +head, Haig approached him cautiously with a saddle, and dropped it on +his back. There was a lightning-like motion, and the saddle was tossed +a dozen feet away, while the two men at the horse's head were jerked +almost off their feet. Again and again the saddle was laid on his +back, to remain there barely an instant. But at the fifth attempt, to +the astonishment of all, Sunnysides stood still, as if, being an +equine Napoleon, he had changed his plan of battle in the face of the +enemy. Without further resistance, he permitted the saddle to be +adjusted and cinched, permitted the men to lead him out of the corral +into the larger one adjoining it, and permitted Haig to mount him and +take the bridle reins in his hand. + +"I'll be damned!" said Curly. "You'd think--" + +"Shut up!" cried Farrish. "That's a bluff." + +"Now then!" ordered Haig, pointing to the rope that still held one +forefoot. + +The rope was removed. + +"The other!" + +Pete and Farrish slipped off the lariat that remained noosed around +the outlaw's neck, and stepped back. + +For some seconds there was no sound, no motion, no sign of any design +on the part of Sunnysides. Then, with the swiftness and surprise of a +flash of powder in the dark, a shocking thing occurred. Without a +preliminary movement, either of lunging or bucking or leaping to one +side, or any of the expected tactics, Sunnysides, with incredible +suddenness, reared straight up into the air, threw himself over, and +fell on his back, pinning Haig to the ground beneath him. + +Before any of the men could move, the horse rolled over sprawling, +scrambled to his feet, and charged at the fence. There was a crash +and the sound of splintering wood. The top plank fell, broken in two +jagged pieces, and the horse's forefeet were over the second plank. +But before he could leap again, Curley had caught the bridle rein, and +swung the outlaw's head around, holding him there until Bill had +leaned over the broken fence and roped the forelegs once more. After a +moment of furious struggle, Sunnysides appeared to realize that it was +useless; and thus the two men held him, with his forefeet still +hanging outside the fence, while they turned their eyes toward Haig. + +Farrish and the Indian knelt at his side. He lay quite still, +unconscious, and for a moment they thought him dead. Pete put his head +down on Haig's breast, and listened. Then he rose to his feet. + +"Whisky!" he muttered, and ran toward the stable. + +In two minutes he was back, bearing a flask, which he uncorked as he +ran. Forcing the mouth of it between Haig's lips, he let the scorching +liquor trickle down the throat until the flask was half emptied. Then +he poured some of the whisky in the palm of his hand, and rubbed it on +Haig's face and bared breast and wrists, while Farrish, in his turn, +ran to the stable and brought a lap robe, which he folded and placed +under Haig's head. + +They waited helplessly, without speech. At the fence, Bill and Curley +clung to their ropes. Sunnysides, his forefeet still projecting over +the plank, and the saddle hanging lopsided from his back, had his head +drawn back so far that he could see the group in the middle of the +corral. His eyes were bloodshot, foam dripped from his mouth, the +breath came whistling through his half-shut windpipe. + +But in the cottonwoods the birds sang undisturbed, and the pines far +up the hill droned their old tune unchanged. From the ranch house came +the rattle of tin pans, and the voice of the cook singing a song of +the round-up. + +After a long time, Haig stirred. A moan came with the first deep +breath; his eyes opened, staring up at the two faces above him; his +lips moved, but at first no sound came from them. Pete leaned closer, +and listened. + +"Did--he--get--away?" came in a whisper. + +"No," answered Pete. "He caught." + +A smile flickered on Haig's lips, and went out; and at the same time a +tiny trickle of blood oozed out, and ran down through the dust on the +white cheek. Pete and Farrish looked at each other; and when they +turned to Haig again, his eyes were closed, and the pallor of his face +had deepened to a bluish, ashen hue. + +Pete bent quickly to put his ear again to Haig's breast. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +HILLYER'S DILEMMA + + +Hillyer's loyal heart was near to bursting with joy. In all the days +of his eager courtship Marion had never seemed so close to him, so +fairly within his grasp, as now. She had welcomed him with totally +unexpected warmth, considering the many times she had rejected him, +and considering, too, the letter he had received from her on her +departure. Absence, he thought, had advanced his cause for him. A +dozen times he was on the point of boldly violating the six months' +embargo she had placed upon his pleadings; but as often as the fervent +words rose to his lips fear froze them there, and he was silent. + +As for Marion, she was for the moment absorbed in a little plan that +was not for Robert's knowledge. She was intent upon meeting Philip in +Robert's company; she wanted to bow to him, and smile, and let him see +that there was one man at least who prized her, if he did not. But the +imp of perversity seemed to have come to abide permanently in the +Park. Though Marion, in the first two days of Robert's visit, guided +him, in the big automobile, everywhere except beyond the Ridge and to +the glade of the columbines, she had never a glimpse of Philip. All +this maddened her; and if Robert had but spoken, there were times +when--But Robert did not speak. + +Near noon of the third day they met Smythe in the main valley road a +mile or so below the post-office. At sight of him bobbing along toward +them, almost lost between his horse and his sombrero, Marion's first +impulse was to speed past him without stopping. She was not sure she +could trust his discretion; for she had told Robert nothing about +Philip Haig. But she did not wish to offend the faithful Smythe; and +so, on second thought, she hurriedly acquainted Robert with the +identity of the approaching figure, and warned him to control his +inevitable mirth. + +"He is funny," she said, laughing in spite of herself, "but he can't +help that. He's been very good to me, in his way." + +In the meantime Smythe's horse was deciding the matter on his own +account. This was the first automobile the pony had ever seen, and he +made up his mind promptly that he did not like it. He reared and +bucked, bolting first to one side and the other of the road, and +refused to consider Smythe's well-worded assurance that wise horses +were really fond of automobiles, which were taking a great deal of +work off their shoulders. + +Hillyer stopped the machine, and cut off the power. But the pony's +suspicions had been thoroughly aroused, and the sudden silence seemed +to him more portentous than even the noise of the motor. Smythe +thereupon had his work cut out for him, but he would not compromise +either by dismounting, or by turning and riding away. Slowly and +patiently he urged the frightened pony toward the automobile until, +after many setbacks and panics, he had brought him near enough for +conversation. + +"There now, Peanuts!" he said to the prancing animal. "You see you +were quite mistaken." Then, to Hillyer and Marion: "He's a little like +myself. He doesn't really believe in ghosts, but he's dreadfully +afraid of them." + +"I didn't know you were such an accomplished horseman," said Marion. + +"Didn't you? Well, you see--" + +At that instant the pony suffered a fresh access of alarm. He bounded +suddenly sideways, and at the same time ducked as if he purposed to +stand on his head, though what good that would have done only he knew. +The movement threw Smythe over the pony's head, and flat on his back +in the dust; and in a twinkling Peanuts was dashing up the road, with +his tail in the air, and the stirrups flapping at his sides. + +For some seconds Smythe lay half-stunned; but before Marion and +Hillyer, leaping from the automobile, were able to reach him, he sat +up, and began to straighten out his crushed sombrero, eyeing it +critically. He was covered with dust, and one end of his white collar, +torn from the button, stuck out above his coat. But his aplomb was +perfect. + +"As I was saying, when interrupted," he began, continuing to minister +to the sombrero, "you see I am an accomplished horseman." + +Marion and Hillyer broke out in uncontrollable laughter. Then Hillyer +hastened to assist Smythe to rise. + +"Not hurt, I hope?" said Robert. + +"Objectively, no. Subjectively, yes. Sartorially, a wreck." + +They laughed now without restraint, which seemed to please Smythe +immensely. He proceeded to tuck the end of the torn collar back into +its place, where it refused to stay; to brush his clothes; to adjust +the abused sombrero in exactly the long-studied angle on his head. + +"I hope you'll forgive us for laughing," said Marion, "but--" + +"Say no more about it, please!" protested Smythe. "I'd rather make you +laugh than weep--assuming that anybody would weep for me." + +"Oh, I'd have felt very badly if you'd been hurt," Marion assured him. +"And you might have been, too." + +"No, a cropper like that's nothing. Peanuts isn't--" He paused just a +second to look into Marion's eyes with an expression that arrested her +attention sharply. "Peanuts isn't Sunnysides." + +"Sunnysides?" she cried out unguardedly. + +Smythe's eyes warned her, as he waited to give her time for +self-control. He did not know how far Hillyer was in her confidence. + +"Is there news--about--Sunnysides?" she faltered, struggling +desperately with herself. + +"Yes," he answered. Then he continued slowly, in as light a manner as +possible, the while he held her with a concentrated gaze: "I'd been +down the valley as far as the mouth of the canyon. Coming back, about +two miles below where Haig's road joins this, I saw the sorrels in a +cloud of dust. 'Hello!' I said. 'Something's up, or the sorrels +wouldn't be driven like that.' In a minute or two I made out Bill +Craven, one of Haig's men, leaning forward in the seat of a road +wagon, and laying on the whip. 'If Haig saw that!' I thought. And so +I--" + +"Go on, please!" said Marion shrilly. + +But Smythe was purposely deliberate; for he saw Hillyer looking at her +curiously. + +"I wasn't going to let anybody abuse his horses if I could prevent it. +Besides, how did I know but Craven was stealing the sorrels? I threw +my pony straight across the road. Craven reined the sorrels up on +their hind legs, almost on top of me. + +"'What in hell?' he yelled. + +"'That's what I want to know,' I answered. + +"'Can't you see I'm in a hurry, damn you?' he shouted angrily. + +"'That's exactly what I do see,' I replied. 'But Haig never whips +those horses.' + +"'That's none of your business, and Haig ain't carin' much now,' he +fired back at me. 'Get out o' my way, or I'll--' + +"'Now just keep cool!' I told him. 'What's the trouble?' + +"Craven snorted, but he told me, as the quickest way out of it. Haig +had been hurt--trying to ride Sunnysides. He's--" + +"Hurt? How?" asked Marion; and Smythe was relieved to detect a new +steadiness in her voice. She had passed the danger point. + +"The horse went over backwards, pinning him to the ground, with the +saddle horn in his stomach. Craven's gone for the doctor." + +She gave him one long, searching look, as if to pluck out anything he +might have been hiding from her. Then she turned swiftly toward the +automobile. + +"Come, Robert! Quick!" she commanded. + +She climbed quickly into the machine, followed by Hillyer, who was +puzzled and alarmed by what he had seen in Marion's face. + +"You too, Mr. Smythe. Hurry!" cried Marion. + +"But my horse?" objected Smythe. + +"He'll run home," answered Marion impatiently. "Come! We may need +you." + +Smythe obeyed, and jumped into the tonneau, while Robert cranked up +and threw in the clutch. + +"Fast!" cried Marion. + +Hillyer glanced at her. She was very white; her lips were pressed +together, her eyes were fixed on the road ahead. The machine lurched +under them. + +"Faster!" urged Marion, in another minute. + +The machine, with a kind of shudder, responded to Hillyer's hand, and +shot out with fresh speed. + +Another brief silence. + +"The cut-out!" she ordered. + +Hillyer bent to the mechanism, and the engine, with the muffler off, +roared and shrieked as it took the smooth white road, with every bar +and rivet throbbing under the pressure. Only then did Marion turn, and +motion to Smythe. He leaned forward, clinging to the back of her +seat. + +"The doctor?" she shouted in his ear. + +"Craven had started for Tellurium," he yelled back. "Said he'd kill +the sorrels. I told him there was a doctor at Lake Cobalt--Doctor +Norris of Omaha--just arrived, with his family. 'You're not such a +fool after all,' said Craven. (I'll talk with him about that later.) +'Thanks!' I said, and pulled my horse out of the way. 'That saves two +days.' He gave the horses the whip again, and I started for +Huntington's to tell you--Watch out! There's the turn!" he shouted in +Hillyer's ear. + +The wheels tore up the sand as the machine, with the power off but +still going at more than half-speed under its momentum, skidded and +scraped around the turn into Haig's road. + +"Now!" cried Marion. + +Again the automobile shivered, and plunged, and went clamoring like a +mad thing up the little valley, the hills echoing back its roar. The +white road leaped up at them, gulping them in. A red steer, astray +from some pasture, crossed the road far ahead of them, and Marion +closed her eyes as the machine, with a sickening swerve, missed it by +inches. The next instant she was pointing to the group of buildings +squatting under the hill; and then she was out of the automobile, and +running to Farrish at the door of the barn. His face confirmed her +worst fears. + +"Where is he?" she asked, with a swift look around. + +He pointed toward the larger of the two cottages. With Hillyer and +Smythe silently following, she ran to the cottage, and through the +open door. There she found herself in a bare, uncarpeted room, +furnished only with two chairs and a table. On the table lay a faded +and battered gray hat. For an instant her gaze rested on it, and a +lump rose in her throat. But she resolutely turned away, tightening +her lips. + +There were two inner doors, one of which, ajar, revealed a glimpse of +brightly polished pans hanging on the wall. The other door was closed. +After an instant of hesitation, she walked straight toward it. + +"Marion!" called Hillyer warningly. + +She did not heed him, but turned the knob, softly opened the door, and +with Robert and Smythe at her heels, stepped into a dimly lighted room +where the aroma of a pine log blazing in the fireplace mingled with +the pungent odor of ammonia. Smythe was quick to observe, over +Marion's shoulder, that the room was a sort of library and bedroom +combined, carpeted in dark red, the walls papered in red also, and the +windows curtained with heavy tapestry silk of the same rich hue. There +were low bookcases on two sides of the room, with pictures above them; +several marble statuettes on the bookcases; and a little jade Buddha +beside a two-foot bronze god of terrifying aspect on the mantelpiece. +In the middle of the apartment stood a solid library table, of which +the cover was a curious strip of faded yellow silk embroidered with a +dragon in green, a fragment of an old Chinese banner. + +At the left of the door, its head against the wall, was a brass bed in +which a figure moved restlessly under the covers. Near the head of the +bed, on the side nearest the door, stood the Indian, his stolid, +bronzed face turned toward Marion as she entered. On the other side, +holding one of Haig's hands, knelt Slim Jim in his blue silks, his +yellowish face as expressionless as Pete's, except for an alert and +questioning look in his eyes. There was no sound except the low +crackling of the fire, and the rasp of heavy breathing, with sharp +catches in it that spoke eloquently of pain. + +Marion stepped to Pete's side, and looked down into the face of Philip +Haig. In the dim light it had the pallor of death, with the parted +lips and the staring eyes of the dead, or the dying. But he breathed; +and presently her steady, searching, pitying gaze brought his eyes to +meet her own, and she saw that they were living eyes, though clouded +and darkened with agony. Almost was she on her knees, weeping over +him, regardless of those in the doorway watching her. And it was not +their presence so much as the necessity for action that restrained and +steadied her. She did not even speak his name; but after her one long +look, she turned away, and with every outward sign of calm, removed +her gloves and hat and coat, and placed them on a chair in a corner of +the room. Then she beckoned to Pete, who followed her, with Smythe and +Hillyer, into the bare outer room. + +"Close the door, please!" she commanded quietly. + +Smythe closed it. + +"Where is he hurt?" she asked the Indian. + +"Here." He laid a hand on his stomach. + +"Was he unconscious?" + +"Yes. Long time." + +"How long has he been like that--awake?" + +"Maybe two hours." + +"What have you done? What have you given him?" + +"Whisky." + +"Nothing else?" + +"Water. Ammonia on face and breast." + +"Was there blood?" + +"Yes. From mouth." + +She had another struggle then, and the tears started in spite of all +that she could do. But she conquered them. + +"Much blood?" + +"No. Little, only at first." + +"Thank you, Pete." Then, turning to Hillyer: "I want you, Robert, +please, to drive home, and tell Mrs. Huntington to make up a bundle of +the things I shall need. Wait! A pencil and a bit of paper, please." + +For a moment he did not move to comply. + +"What are you going to do, Marion?" he asked, his voice shaking +slightly with the effort of speaking calmly. + +"I'm going to nurse him," she replied, meeting his look without +flinching. + +"But, Marion! I don't--" + +"Pencil and paper, Robert!" she said firmly. + +He tore a leaf from a notebook, and gave it to her with his pencil. + +"Thank you," she said; and seated herself at the table to write. + +But there was the dilapidated hat again--so stained and soiled, a +crumpled, tragic, intimate thing--arresting her. How it had filled her +dreams! How she had laughed at it, fondly, tenderly, as a mother +smiles at the battered school hat of her boy! Once, she had fancied it +hanging on the pink wall in her room, a trophy, with a ribbon tied +around its sweated band. And now she wanted to grab it up, and hug it +to her breast. But she only lifted it gently, and placed it a little +farther away, on the other side of the table. Then she made her +notes. + +"There, Robert!" she said, rising, and handing the list to him. +"Claire will know where to find them." + +He took the paper mechanically, his eyes fixed on Marion. + +"Will you come down, to the car for a moment?" he asked. + +She saw the look, and softened under it. But she could not answer his +questions then. + +"No," she said. "Later, if you wish it." + +For a moment he hesitated. But he could say no more in the presence of +Smythe and Pete, though they were talking together at the other side +of the room. So he moved slowly away, but was suddenly stopped by a +cry from Marion. + +"Oh! Oh!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't somebody--why didn't I think of +it before? The car? Run, Robert! Drive down the road toward the lake. +You'll overtake the sorrels--or meet them. Bring the doctor in the +car. Fast, please!" + +Hillyer, without another word, ran and leaped into the automobile, and +was soon bringing the echoes out of the hills again. He sank low in +the seat, and fixed his eyes on the road that stretched out blinding +white in the sunlight. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +COALS OF FIRE + + +Seth was oiling a pair of boots on the veranda, while Claire talked to +him about Hillyer, who had pleased her immeasurably by his devotion to +Marion, and even more, of course, by his generous compliments to +herself. She was delicately calling Seth's attention to the pleasure, +the profits, and the sanctity of politeness, when she caught sight of +Hillyer's automobile emerging slowly and silently from the trees that +concealed the road at a little distance from the corrals. + +"There he is now!" she exclaimed. And then, an instant later: "Why, +he's alone!" + +She stood up excitedly, and Seth also, dropping a half-oiled boot on +the floor. + +"What the devil?" ejaculated Huntington. + +So they stood, waiting and wondering, while Hillyer alighted from the +automobile, and walked, with exasperating slowness--with reluctance, +if they had but known it--up the graveled path among the flower beds. +Something in the look of him caused Claire to clutch a post of the +veranda for support. + +"Where's Marion?" she cried. + +"She's all right," replied Hillyer, as he mounted the steps. "That is, +nothing has happened to her. But there's been an accident." He +hesitated. "Who is this Philip Haig?" + +"Haig? What about Haig?" demanded Huntington. + +"He's been hurt. A horse threw him." + +"Sunnysides?" cried Huntington excitedly. + +"I believe so." + +"He will, will he?" chuckled Huntington. "That serves--" + +"But Marion?" interrupted Claire. "What about Marion?" + +Hillyer looked doubtfully from one to the other, in much embarrassment. +What did they know? Or were they as ignorant as he of the situation +that had been revealed to him as if by the flash of a thunderbolt? And +how much should he disclose to them, in loyalty to Marion? But in his +pocket was Marion's list. + +"She's there--with him," he said at length. + +"There? Where?" thundered Huntington. + +"At his house." + +They stood stock-still, staring at him. + +"She wishes Mrs. Huntington to make up a bundle of these things for me +to take to her." + +He handed the list to Claire, who took it, and held it at arm's +length, regarding it curiously, as if she had not understood. + +"You mean that--" she began, and stopped. + +"She says she's going to nurse him." + +"She's going to--what?" Claire's voice rose almost to a shriek. + +"Nurse him." + +"And you've left her there with that--" + +Huntington was going to say "ruffian," but was checked by a sudden +recollection, as well as by the look that Hillyer flashed at him. For +a moment the two men faced each other, the one with anger boiling up +inside of him, the other struggling to put down the resentment aroused +by Huntington's belligerent tone. Claire crushed the slip of paper in +her hand, and watched them fearfully. + +"I judge from your manner," said Hillyer at length, when he had +controlled himself, "that you dislike her being there as much as I do. +But as I am all in the dark, I'll be greatly obliged to you if you +will answer my question. Who is Philip Haig?" + +"That's what I'd like to know!" blurted out Huntington. + +Hillyer made a gesture of impatience. + +"But he's your neighbor," he said curtly. + +"And that's about all I know of him," Huntington replied, "except that +we ought to have run him out of the Park long ago, and will do it yet, +so help me God!" + +"Why?" asked Hillyer shortly. + +Then, as clearly as he could in his rage, Seth gave Hillyer a brief +account of the events of the four years that Haig had been in the +Park,--an account that satisfied Hillyer as little as it had satisfied +Marion. He had meant, in the beginning, to ask how Marion had come to +know Haig, and if they had been much together; but he now surmised +that Huntington and his wife were as ignorant as himself of that +acquaintanceship, or friendship, or whatever it was that could have +made possible the astounding emotions he had seen on Marion's face. +Hillyer's situation was difficult. If Marion had a secret he must +guard it for her, whatever it might cost him. Yet now he needed help, +and no one could help him but Huntington and his wife. And at the +first words on the subject, Huntington had (more in the tone of his +speech than the matter) shown him that little help could be expected +in that quarter. Last of all, and not to be forgotten, he was the +Huntingtons' guest. + +"How bad's he hurt?" asked Huntington. + +Hillyer shook his head dubiously. + +"It's impossible to say just yet. Doctor Norris fears that the +pancreas is ruptured. In that case--" He shrugged his shoulders. "At +any rate, the pancreas and the stomach are temporarily paralyzed by +the blow of the saddle horn--the horse seems to have gone over +backward on him. If he gets over the shock there's still the danger of +inflammation. There ought to be ice packs. Cold water will have to do. +They must be changed every minute. Doctor Norris told me--" He paused +to look intently at Claire--"Doctor Norris told me that nothing but +the most careful nursing can save him." + +"Let the Chinaman do it!" Huntington blurted out. + +Hillyer shook his head. + +"No. Norris says he will not trust him. You see, Haig's pleading for +water must be denied. He can command the Chinaman, and that--Besides, +all this is not to the point. Marion has made up her mind, and I +assure you--Please get the things she asks for, Mrs. Huntington." + +"You don't mean you're going to take them!" shouted Huntington. + +"Certainly. She's asked for them." + +"And you're going to let her stay there--with him?" + +Hillyer smiled. Having abandoned all hope of assistance from +Huntington, he was thinking of other measures, and was scarcely as +attentive as he might have been to the increasing truculence of his +host. + +"What would you do?" he asked quietly. + +"I'd bring her away!" + +"Would you care to go and try it?" + +This was a keener thrust than Hillyer had any intention of delivering, +provoked though he was by Huntington's behavior; for Seth had not +included in his narrative any reference to the affair at the +post-office, or to Haig's visit to his house. Huntington's face became +purple; and if he had been apoplectic in disposition he would surely +have suffered a seizure in that moment of choking rage. + +"I'll go there right enough!" he bellowed. "I'll go, when I get ready. +I'll go when he's able to stand up and take what's coming to him. As +for her--you can take her things, and her trunks too, while you're +about it." + +Hillyer gazed at him dumbfounded for just a breath of time. Then his +own face flamed. + +"Quite right, Mr. Huntington!" he said, taking a step toward him. "I +haven't seen much of Haig, but from what I've seen of you, I think his +house can be no worse place for Miss Gaylord than yours. What's more, +you're an--" He caught himself, whirled on his heel, and addressed +Claire. "May I ask you, please, to pack Marion's trunks. I'll attend +to mine." + +Claire had stood quite silent, with her blue eyes opening wider and +wider, for the moment helpless, but trusting more to Hillyer's +resources of diplomacy than to her husband's self-control. Now her +face crimsoned with mortification, and she stood up with all the +inches of her five foot two. + +"You'll do no such thing!" she cried, and one little heel came down on +the floor with a jolt. "The idea! The very idea! Oh!" + +For a moment she stood poised, like a butterfly in a rage, if one can +imagine it; then she tripped straight to Huntington, clasped the +lapels of his coat, and drew herself up on tiptoes, trying to meet his +eyes. + +"Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" she cried. + +"No, I'm not!" he growled. + +But he was, or at least was dimly conscious of his egregious +misbehavior; for he looked neither at Hillyer nor his wife, and was +red now where he had been purple. + +"But you are, though!" She turned her face toward Hillyer, without +loosing her hold on Seth's coat. "Don't you mind him, Mr. Hillyer! +He's just a big bear. And Haig has been a trial to us. Marion's my +guest, and--" She looked up into Seth's beard again--"If you think +you're going to send her away like this--" + +She stopped short, as on a sudden thought, and then, with a giggle, +buried her face in his flannel shirt. And the next thing, as +unexpected as her blue-eyed rage, she dropped her hands from his coat, +stooped to catch up the hem of her skirt between thumb and forefinger +of each hand, and began to pirouette around the room. + +"Oh, ho!" she exclaimed, laughing triumphantly, her little body +swaying as she tripped, with low curtsies to Seth and Hillyer, who for +the moment forget their animosity in wonder at this feminine +diversion. "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Oh, splendid!" + +She stopped, at length, in front of Seth, dropped to one knee, bowed +till her golden head almost touched the floor, and rose again to stand +with her hands on her hips, her arms akimbo, her face flushed with +excitement. + +"Seth Huntington!" she cried ecstatically. "Do you know what we're +going to do?" + +He merely stared. + +"We're going to heap coals of fire on his head." + +"What do you mean?" demanded Huntington uneasily. + +"Marion's going to nurse Haig. There's no way any of us can stop her. +She's our cousin and guest, and we've got to show it. If they want to +talk, we'll give them something to talk about. _I'll go and nurse Haig +too!_" + +Dead silence. + +"Ah!" cried Hillyer. + +"You'll not!" roared Huntington. + +"Watch me!" retorted Claire, turning swiftly, and running toward her +bedroom. But halfway there she stopped. "No, don't watch me! You just +go and look after the cattle. Leave this Mr. Haig to us, and he'll be +the best friend you ever had before Marion and I get through with +him." + +Hillyer, recovering from his amazement, stepped smiling to where she +stood, and reached both his hands to her. + +"Mrs. Huntington," he said warmly. "You're a peach!" + +She laughed gaily, and put both her tiny hands in his, for just an +instant. + +This was the last straw. Seth snorted like a baited animal, whirled +around, bolted from the house, and ran blindly to the barn. + +"Saddle Nigger!" he yelled to Williams, who obeyed with stumbling +alacrity, while Huntington strode up and down before the door. + +From the window of the ranch house Claire and Hillyer, silent, watched +him until he had flung himself into the saddle, dug the spurs into the +flanks of his favorite and now astonished black horse, and disappeared +up the hill. + +"Where's he going?" asked Hillyer, suspicious that Huntington meant +mischief. + +Claire drew back from the window with a sigh of relief. + +"He's going to--" She laughed softly, but with just a little tremor in +her voice--"He's going to--look after the cattle." + +Hillyer saw that her blue eyes were moist. + +"He's the best man in the world, and--I love him," she said, looking +at Hillyer with a soft appeal. "You believe that, don't you?" + +"Indeed I do, Mrs. Huntington," Hillyer answered heartily. + +"Then you must forgive him; he has such a temper!" + +"I'm sorry we had any misunderstanding," Hillyer was able to say +sincerely. "I'll talk it over with him--later." + +"Please!" urged Claire. + +"But I must go now. Those things for Marion, please." + +"I'll have them ready in a minute. And I've only to slip on another +dress, and--" + +"But you don't mean--You're not going?" + +"Of course I am!" she answered, with a look of surprise. + +"I think you'd better not," he said quietly. + +"But why?" + +"Now think a minute, Mrs. Huntington. Your husband objects to your +going. It will not only anger him more, but it will hurt him. Isn't +that so?" + +"Yes," she admitted reluctantly. + +Her coals of fire had kindled her imagination. Such a romantic idea! +There would be such talk, such a sensation! + +"It would be another matter if there were anything you could do," +Hillyer went on. "But there isn't. And I know very well that Marion +would send you back if you did go." + +That was true enough, on reflection; but it was a disappointment! + +"But Marion! There alone!" she said, making her last stand. + +"I shall be there," replied Hillyer. "The Chinaman's going to fix a +bed for me. I'll look after Marion." + +So she yielded, and was glad of it when she had time to think it over. +She gave Hillyer the bundle for Marion, and watched him go, waving a +good-by from the veranda. Then she hastened to the kitchen to make +apple dumplings for supper. If there was one thing that could always +be counted on to soothe Seth it was apple dumplings. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile it was indeed a black day for Huntington. Fate was against +him. Tearing himself, mangled in spirit, out of one trap, he rode +blindly into another. Far up in the hills, riding savagely, he knew +not where, nor cared, vowing dark vengeance on Haig, his attention was +drawn at last by the weird and ominous bellowing of cattle. Following +the sound, he came to a little hollow where a hundred or more cattle +were gathered, like the rapt spectators in an amphitheater, around two +bulls engaged in mortal combat. One, as Seth quickly saw, was a red +Hereford, his best thoroughbred; the other, a black Angus, and even +more valuable, was Haig's. The red bull, bleeding from many wounds, +was plainly being worsted in the encounter. With a roar of rage, +Huntington drew his revolver, urged his unwilling horse down into the +arena where the turf was torn up for many yards around the combatants, +circled about until he could take sure aim, and emptied every chamber +of the gun into the head and neck of the Angus. The bull sank to the +ground, head first, in a lumbering mass that kicked once or twice, +shivered, and lay still. + +But the Hereford, red-eyed with blood and fury, turned on Huntington, +and drove him, barely escaping being gored, into the thick timber. In +a place of safety Huntington jerked his horse around, and sat limp in +the saddle, staring down at the scene of his final humiliation. + +"That's it! That's it!" he bellowed. "Even my own bull turns on me. +Haw! Haw!" His hollow, hoarse, and unmirthful laughter echoed among +the pines. "Great joke! Haig will like that. And the rest of them. +Hell!" + +But Haig! And the Angus! Well, there'd got to be a show-down anyhow +pretty soon. He dismounted, and seated himself on a fallen tree trunk, +and gave himself up to reflections upon which it is only the most +obvious kindness and discretion to draw the curtain. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW + + +The days dragged by under the burdens of doubt and torture, and out of +the Valley of the Shadow came Philip Haig, with some new and +disquieting thoughts to occupy him in his convalescence. Toiling up +out of the darkness, where foul fiends seemed to have torn and mangled +his body with their fiery claws, his fingers were still warm from the +pressure of a soft, guiding hand; there was a haunting memory of +kisses on his forehead, of a cheek laid close to his; and he could +still hear the gentle but commanding voice that told him to be +patient--to be still--that life was coming back to him. + +Life! As if he cared for life! Had he not spent years on years in +seeking what just now had been in his very grasp, only to be withdrawn +by two caressing hands? And Doctor Morris, on the day of his final +visit, had left him no possibility of misunderstanding. + +"Miss Gaylord has saved your life," he said. "I could do little. It +was her nursing that pulled you through." + +He wanted much to tell the doctor just how much value he placed on +that life. But to what purpose? Doctors lived in their own peculiar +atmosphere of conceit and self-deception, crowing like a hen over a +new-laid egg whenever they chanced to bring back a soul to the +miseries from which it had struggled to escape. It would be a waste of +words, for Norris would never understand. Would Marion? Cold terror +seized him at the thought of the coming, the inevitable scene with +her. She, he realized vaguely, was different from--from all the others +he had ever seen and looked down upon from his safe heights of cynical +hatred and contempt. She was not selfish or mercenary--not consciously +selfish or mercenary. And she was not vile. But she was all the more +dangerous because her heart was pure. She was too high-bred, too fine, +to demand payment of his debt; but her very reticence and delicacy, he +foresaw, would make his repudiation of that debt--that factitious +debt--more difficult. Twice or thrice, as he struggled with his +problem, he was conscious of a curious, disturbing thrill. She loved +him. There had been a time, long, long ago--But now he was a man; he +had learned his lesson; and he knew that the chains would be no less +hateful because they were made of gold. + +There came a day when he sat, wrapped in blankets, in an armchair near +the window, where he could see the grass waving in the sunlight on the +slope above the cottage, and the pines bending in the breeze high up +the hill. Marion, near him, her hands folded in her lap, looked +sometimes out of the window but more often at him, though his eyes +avoided hers. She was scarcely less pale than he, and very tired and +worn. Despite Hillyer's protestations she had slept little in the ten +days of Philip's peril; for she would trust no one but herself to do +with iron determination exactly what the doctor had commanded. +Philip's pitiable pleading for water in his semi-delirium her love +alone was strong enough to resist. But this was the last day of her +watch over him. In an hour she must go. She had frankly asked Robert +to let her have this last afternoon alone with Philip; and had +promised him that he should then have the answer to every question +that he had loyally put aside for her. + +They sat a long time silent, while the shadow of the cottage +lengthened on the grass. + +"It wasn't worth it, Miss Gaylord," Haig said at length. + +"I--I don't understand," she faltered. + +"Doctor Norris tells me that you saved my life." + +"I'm glad if he thinks I helped a little," she answered, trying to +smile. + +"He left me no room for doubt. Very plain-spoken is Doctor Norris." + +"I'm afraid he exaggerated," she protested gently. + +"No." + +"But Jim--" + +"Jim's all right in his way, but he couldn't have done it." + +"I am paid," she said simply. + +"Paid?" + +"Yes. Knowing that you live." + +"No. You think you mean that, perhaps, but you don't." + +"I don't mean what?" she asked in surprise. + +"You don't mean that you are paid." + +She turned away, and looked out the window, her heart throbbing. + +"I must tell you something, Miss Gaylord," he went on resolutely. "I'm +not grateful." + +"Not grateful?" + +"I mean, I'm not glad to owe my life to you." + +"But I haven't asked--" + +"No. Not directly." He hesitated a moment. "It's like this: If a man +had saved my life, I could pay him. There would be a clasp of the +hand, and a look from man to man. Or I should save his life in turn, +or do him some service. Or--there are other ways. There's Pete's way +and Jim's way--of paying. But I can't pay you in any of the ways I +could pay a man. And I can't pay in the only way a woman knows." + +"Don't," she cried. "Don't, please!" + +She was right, he thought. He was doing it brutally. He must try +another method. There followed a long silence, while he tried to frame +a speech that would tell her, and would not hurt too much; for now, +strangely, he found himself reluctant to give her pain, even to put +himself in a false light before her--to be misunderstood. At last he +leaned toward her--forced her to meet his gaze. + +"Could you--if you had ever loved one man with all your heart +and soul--held him as dear to you as life--dearer than life +itself--without whom life would be impossible--could you ever +love another?" + +For all her anguish she was able to detect the trap that he had set +for her. "Yes" would cheapen the quality and deny the finality of her +love for him; "no" would be an acceptance of the doom and tragedy she +saw shadowing his eyes. She did not answer. + +"You see, you dare not answer that," he went on. "I suppose I ought to +tell you the story. But I won't. It's long, and not a pretty story at +all. But this much I will tell you. I gave one woman all I had to +give. She threw it away--and laughed at me. I have nothing more." + +She took it very bravely and very quietly, as it seemed to him. He +felt a certain admiration. There was good blood in the girl. Her +father must have been worth knowing. His thoughts would have taken a +different direction--would have been nothing so complacent if he had +known just what she was thinking. His speech, terrifying at first, had +actually renewed a hope that had fallen very low. She did not believe +a word of what he had said, that is, of his having nothing more to +give. Whenever did woman believe any such thing as that, no matter how +solemnly, on what stoutest oaths, with what tragic air a man has told +it to her? Love is not love that doubts its own compelling power. And +Marion, gazing fondly at Philip now, felt somewhat as a mother feels +who smilingly indulges some childhood tragedy of her boy, knowing that +it will pass as the cloud upon an April sky. If this was the worst he +had to say to her-- + +But it was not the worst. Philip felt an intense relief to see her +accept the situation with such unexpected calm. He admired her +consciously now,--for her intelligence. He began to think that he +might almost take her hand, and thank her, as he would thank a man for +doing him a service, however mistakenly. But something held him back +from that folly. He wondered a little at her silence, and it was by +way of breaking it before it should become embarrassing that he +searched for something safe and commonplace to say to her. + +"It was my own fault, you know, that I was injured." + +"Why your own fault?" + +"I was in a bad humor. I lost my self-control. And I got what I +deserved." + +He thought she would ask him why he had been in a bad humor, and he +purposed to say that he was raging in discontent, longing for the +white road again. It would be safe enough now, no doubt, to tell her +in this fashion that if ever she should come to the Park again she +would not find him there. But his words had suggested something +entirely different to her mind. + +"What are you going to do with him?" she asked, in sudden vague +anxiety. + +"Do with him?" + +"Yes--Sunnysides? I wish you'd please sell him." + +"Sell him? Sell Sunnysides?" His voice betrayed his astonishment. + +"Yes." + +"But I haven't ridden him yet." + +"You don't mean--" Her voice failed. + +"That I'm going to ride him? Just as soon as I get well." + +For some seconds she sat dazed. It was so utterly unexpected. The +thought had not once occurred to her that he would try again what had +all but cost him his life. It is at some such point as this that man's +and woman's natures make one of their many departures from the +parallel. To Haig the taming of Sunnysides now meant everything; to +Marion it seemed a useless, a worse than useless risk, a wicked waste. +What had been the worth, then, of all her labor of love, if it was to +be thrown away? He would be killed the next time. And in the horror +with which she foresaw that tragic end of all that she had planned and +builded, her courage and confidence fell away from her, and left her +weak and helpless. She uttered a thin, little cry, and slipped to the +floor on her knees, clasping his emaciated hand that lay on an arm of +the chair. + +"No! No!" she cried frantically. "Please, Philip! Please promise me +you won't do that!" + +Then she broke down completely, her head drooped, and she sank down in +a heap, with her face between her hands. + +Haig was stunned. He had blundered again. Fool, not to have let her go +away from him in silence, in calm! He looked down at that crumpled +figure, at the mass of tawny hair, with the red-gold lights in it, the +enticing soft whiteness of her neck where the hair curved cleanly +upward, the graceful slope of the shoulders that now shook with sobs. +And something stirred in him, something deep, too deep to be reached +and overpowered. It grew until it sang through all his being, a +feeling such as he had never known before. She was fine and beautiful; +she was a thing to be desired; and he had only to reach out, and take +her for his own. Before he was aware of it, he had stretched out his +hand until it almost touched her hair. Then from across the years a +mocking voice rang out shrill and cold and cruel: "Now don't you go +mussing up my apartment, Pipo!" + +He drew back his hand with a jerk, and clutched the chair; and sat +bolt upright, while every nerve rang with the alarm. + +Minutes passed. The sobs gradually subsided; the figure on the floor +slowly ceased its convulsive movements; and again a deep silence +enveloped the room. Out on the brown-green slope the sun's rays were +slanting low, the shadow of the cottage climbed the hill. + +Well, Haig thought, he had bungled the business after all. That was +what came of trying to do it nicely, with delicacy. Hard words were +the kindest in the end, because the quickest understood. + +She had not yet lifted her head when he turned to look at her again; +and that made it easier. + +"I can't leave the ranch--just now," he said slowly. "If I could, I +would. So I think--I think you ought to go back home--to New York, I +mean--at once." + +She did not answer. And it was only after another silence that she +looked up at him, and he saw that her eyes were still filled with +tears, and there was a curious little puckering of her chin. + +"You said you wished you could repay me," she said. "Do you?" + +"Yes," he answered, wondering. "But I told you--" + +"But there is a way!" + +"Well?" + +"Promise me you will not ride Sunnysides." + +He shook his head. + +"No. I can't promise that." + +"Why?" + +"That's one of the things you couldn't possibly understand." + +"But it's such a little thing!" + +"If I gave you that, I should indeed have nothing left. You would have +all." + +It was true that she could not in the least understand. But she knew +she could not move him. + +"Then promise me," she pleaded, "that you'll not try it until you are +quite, quite well!" + +"Oh. I promise you that!" he replied, with a grim smile. + +"Thank you--Philip!" + +Presently she arose, and looked down at him with a long, lingering +gaze that seemed to be searching for something in his features. + +"You'll take just what Jim gives you?" she asked anxiously. + +"Of course." + +"And not try to--boss him about the medicines and the food?" + +"I promise to obey orders." + +"And you'll be very careful?" + +"Yes." + +She moved slowly toward the door. But halfway there she stopped, and +turned to look at him again. How could she leave him now? She +couldn't! She couldn't! He was gazing away from her, out through the +window. Wasn't he going to say a word to her--of farewell? She came +back unsteadily, and stood behind his chair, her hands stretched out +above his head. Then suddenly, impulsively, not touching him with her +hands, she leaned down, and kissed his forehead. + +"Good-by!" she said, her voice breaking. + +"Good-by!" he answered gently, but without turning his head. + +He heard the door opened and closed, very softly. After that he sat a +long time in silence. Well, she was gone! It had been a trying +afternoon, and he was glad to have it ended. And yet the room seemed +to be extraordinarily empty, as it had never been before his illness. +The stillness rather oppressed him. Damn it all, sickness did strange +things to a man! Took a lot out of him! He straightened himself in his +chair. + +Presently Jim entered. + +"Well, Jim!" said Haig. "Here we are again, eh? I'm hungry." + +"You eat, she come back," Jim answered shrewdly. + +Haig looked at him sharply, but the Chinaman's face was like a paper +mask. + +"Shut up!" he cried savagely. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS + + +Hillyer was waiting for her at the barn when she came at last, with a +smile that eased his anxiety, if only in an inconsiderable degree. But +he saw, as he took her handbag and bundle, and placed them in the +automobile, that she had been crying. This gladdened while it angered +him, and he was lost among the many interpretations that might be put +upon those signs of distress. Had she come to the end of her +infatuation? Had she been subjected to insults as the reward of her +service? He dared not ask her such questions--not yet; but he was +resolved (and there were material reasons, too, for that decision) to +have his own case settled, one way or another, at once. + +Neither of them spoke more than a conventional word or two until +Hillyer, after full speed down Haig's road to the junction, slowed up +on the main highway along the Brightwater. It was the serenest of +summer evenings, very still and fragrant, with a touch of autumn in +the air. The eastern sky was filled with pale golds and pinks, and the +foothills were warm with purples. Marion's face was averted from +Hillyer, and her eyes were fixed, not on the soft alternations of +color in the sky, but on Thunder Mountain, where the only clouds to be +seen in all the expanse of blue lay low upon its uncompromising head. + +"Marion!" said Hillyer, at length. + +She did not miss the note in his voice that exposed his intention, but +long preparation for this moment enabled her to face him calmly. + +"Yes, I know, Robert," she said. "You have much to say to me." + +"I'm going to-morrow," he began abruptly. "Will you go with me?" + +"To-morrow? Go with you?" she repeated, with a little start of +surprise. + +"Yes. Will you go with me?" + +"But I don't understand, Robert." + +"I must be in Denver the day after to-morrow." + +"I--I didn't know your time was so short. I'm afraid--I've spoiled +your visit." + +"That doesn't matter, Marion, if you'll go back with me." + +"But I can't--just yet." + +"Why not?" + +"I'm not ready. I haven't half finished my visit with Claire." + +She was, after all, somewhat confused, for she had not expected him to +approach the subject in just this way. + +"But the summer is almost gone. It's near the end of August," +persisted Hillyer. + +"There's another month of good weather. And September, Claire says, is +the most beautiful of all." + +"That may be, unless Huntington's right. He told me only yesterday +that it's going to be an early winter. There's come a chill in the air +even since I've been here." + +"Nonsense!" she replied, recovering her composure. "I'll go out with +the last stage." + +"And get caught in an avalanche or something!" + +"I suppose Seth does want to get rid of me!" she said, with a faint +laugh. + +"That's not it at all." + +"Well, I'm not afraid." + +"But suppose you stay too late, and get caught. You'd have to remain +here all winter. The Park, Huntington says, is as tight as a jail +after the snows come." + +"Claire stays here through the winter sometimes." + +He felt a fresh alarm, and showed it. It would be just like her! he +thought. + +"See here, Marion!" he said, plunging at last. "I've obeyed your order +not to say anything about--the future. I meant not to say anything +until the time was up. But you must see I can't keep silent now, +after--what's happened. You must know I can't go away and leave you +without knowing what--it all means. You said you'd tell me as soon as +you'd finished nursing--him. No, wait, please! Let me say it at once. +You know I love you. I want you to marry me. I need you, Marion. +There's never been an hour, a minute that I haven't thought of you. I +can't work--I can't do anything without you. I love you more than--" + +"Stop, Robert!" she cried. "You're making it harder for both of us." + +"Harder--for--both of us?" he repeated slowly. + +"Yes." + +There was a moment's silence. Hillyer, while he spoke, had +half-consciously stopped the automobile, which stood now, humming +softly, in the middle of the road that stretched white and empty ahead +of them and behind them. The night breeze had risen, blowing cold from +the snows, and the shadows were creeping down into the valley, as if +they came from dark caverns in the hills. + +"Robert," she said sadly. "It's no use. I must tell you. I--I can't +marry you." + +"Why?" + +"You make me say it!" she cried. "Well, Robert, I--I don't love you." + +"I'm not asking you to love me!" he rejoined, almost savagely. "I only +ask you--" + +"Listen!" she interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. "That's not +all." + +"You mean--" + +She stopped him with a pressure on his arm. + +"Once, not knowing, I almost consented," she went on. "But something +checked me--held me back. You remember how restless I was--how +troubled. You would have laughed at me if I had told you. But +something seemed to be calling me--a voice from a long distance. I +laughed at myself for a foolish girl--at first. I said it was nerves, +and I fought against it. And it was then that I came nearest to saying +yes to you, thinking that I was indeed foolish in holding back. I +liked you. I've always liked you, Robert. You'd been such a splendid +friend, and I was grateful. I wanted to repay you--" + +She stopped suddenly, and a flush mounted swiftly into her pale +cheeks. Repay! The word recalled sharply to her, acutely and +painfully, all that Haig had said about paying her. Were they, then, +in the same dreadful situation, she and Haig, with debts they could +never pay? For the first time some sense of the terrible finality of +his decision struck in upon her secret hopes. + +"Don't talk of that!" Robert was saying, seizing the moment of +silence. "I never--" + +"But always, when I was about to yield--I couldn't. I didn't know why +then. But now I do." + +"You mean--Haig?" he asked hoarsely. + +"Yes." + +"You don't--" He could not bring himself to speak the word. + +"Yes, Robert. I love him." + +It took all the courage she possessed. But she owed it to him and to +herself. + +"I don't believe it!" he blurted out. "I won't believe it! You are not +yourself, Marion. You are worn out. You have been fascinated. He's +strange--different--new to you. It's your imagination, not your heart, +that's been--won. He's led you on by--" + +"No!" she broke in. "You're quite wrong. It's not his fault at all. He +doesn't love me." + +"Of course not. I know that kind of fellow. You didn't need to leave +New York to find plenty like him. He only wants to--" + +"Robert!" she cried warningly. + +"Then what--" + +"He hates me, I think," she replied sadly. + +"Then why in the world do you--" He was floundering. "What do you know +about him, anyhow? Who is he? Where did he come from?" + +That sounded so much like Seth Huntington that she smiled, thinking of +the picture that he must have drawn for Hillyer. + +"I know very little about him," she replied quietly. "But I know that +Cousin Seth is mistaken." + +"But how do you know he hates you?" + +"He made that clear in the beginning--not me alone, but all women. He +shunned me. He told me twice that I must not speak to him again. And +this afternoon, while you waited for me--" Her voice broke, with a +laugh that was half a sob. "He--finished it." + +"He was rude to you!" he cried. "I'll make him--" + +She put her hand quickly on his arm. + +"No. He was very gentle--and kind." + +"What did he say?" Hillyer demanded, almost imperatively. + +"He said that--he couldn't leave the ranch just now, so I'd better go +back to New York--at once." + +"He did, did he?" cried Hillyer angrily, his chivalry for the moment +dominant. But then he saw suddenly another meaning, for him, in the +brutal ultimatum; and his face brightened. "That settles it, doesn't +it?" he exclaimed eagerly. + +"Settles what?" + +"Why, you'll go with me!" + +"No." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I told you I'm not ready yet." + +There was a silence while Hillyer, buoyed up with new hope, made some +hurried calculations. + +"Then listen, Marion!" he said. "I'll go to Denver, and come back in a +week or ten days. I'll arrange things so that I can stay here +until--" + +"Oh, Robert! You won't understand." + +He stared at her blankly. + +"You're making it so hard for me!" she cried pathetically. "I've told +you already that I cannot marry you." + +"But why! Why!" he persisted. + +"Because I haven't myself--I've nothing to give." + +"But how can you love him after he has--" + +"Told me he does not love me?" she said, taking the words from him. +"Then how can you love me when I have said the same thing to you?" + +He struggled desperately, in deep water. + +"It's different, Marion. You don't hate me--I think. You say you like +me. That's enough now--to start with. It's all I ask. I'll try to make +you happy, and I'll wait for love. You shall have all the things in +the world you want. I'm making scads of money. Everything I touch just +rolls up into bank notes. I want you to come and spend all that money +for me. Remember, Marion, your father wished it. If he were here +now--" + +"Yes!" she put in with sudden fire. "If he were here now do you know +what he would say to me?" + +He felt that he had blundered, and made no reply. + +"He would say to me--Oh, I can hear him now! He would say: 'Follow +your heart, daughter. Love's the only thing in the world that really +counts.'" + +She smiled triumphantly, but wistfully. And Hillyer was still silent. + +"Daddy wasn't very good at quoting Scripture," she went on musingly, +"but he used to say: 'Better a dinner of herbs where love is than a +stalled ox and hatred therewith.'" + +"But there isn't any hatred therewith!" cried Hillyer desperately. "I +love you, Marion, and if you don't love me--you don't hate me. So +there's more than half of it, and--can't we trust the future a little +bit?" + +"No." + +"But what are you going to do?" he asked, shifting his line of +attack. + +"I don't know," she replied, with a helpless gesture. + +"You can't go back to New York without money enough to take your +proper place in the world. Of course, if you'll let me, I'll--" + +"Robert!" she interrupted sharply. + +"Well, I mean it just the same!" he replied stoutly. "I've got to +take care of you, and if you won't--See here, Marion! I simply +refuse to be turned down this way. I'll not take your stubborn, whimsy +little 'no' for my answer. You're on my hands, thank God! whether you +like it or not. Maybe you won't love me. Maybe you won't marry me. +We'll see about that! But I'm going to look after you--I'm going to +take care of you, just the same--and you can just stop tightening +those lips--they're not as red as they ought to be--and you can make +up your mind that you can boss me so far and no farther." + +Marion smiled at him indulgently, but gratefully, and even a little +proudly; for she had been very proud of him in the days when only +friendship was spoken of. She did not in the least resent his speech; +but neither did she answer him. + +"It's getting late, Robert," she said, shivering a little. + +"So it is," he replied. "And you've no warm wrap for the night air." + +He drew the lap-robe around her, and started the automobile. Through +the gathering night they drove, almost without speaking, to +Huntington's, where the best supper that Claire could contrive from +the limited stores at her disposal awaited the prodigal. There was +naturally some constraint at table. Huntington had made his peace with +Hillyer, having apologized humbly, and expatiated on the cause of his +wrath. But he did not know how he stood with Marion, who had been a +long time in the camp of the enemy, and who doubtless knew too of his +speech about her trunks. He had not dared to ask Hillyer whether he +had related that incident to her, and he felt the need of extreme +discretion until he should discover what kind of a rod she had in +pickle for him, or, at any rate, until the time should be propitious +to tell her that he was sorry for his conduct. Marion was tired, and +disinclined to talk, while Hillyer, on his side, had his mind fully +occupied, between his deal in mines and his deal in love, in both of +which he had encountered unexpected difficulties. Only Claire was gay +and untroubled, and she accepted eagerly the task of saving the party +from awkward silences. For once in many moons she was allowed to talk +unchecked, and she made the most of her opportunity. + +After supper, Marion announced her purpose to go to bed at once. She +was sure, she declared, that she could sleep "around the clock." + +"I'll be off before you're up, then," said Hillyer. + +"You must go to-morrow?" asked Claire. + +"Absolutely. It means thousands." + +"Then we'll sit on the veranda a few minutes," said Marion. "Not long, +though. I'm dreadfully sleepy." + +It was not long. They found they had little to say to each other, +since the one subject of which both were thinking, each from a +different point of view, was tacitly barred. And Hillyer soon saw that +Marion was sorely in need of rest. + +"Go to bed now, dear girl!" he said presently. "And please take good +care of yourself. I want to see the color back in your cheeks when I +return." + +"I will, Robert," she answered. "I'll be quite all right in a day or +two." + +"And you--don't really think of staying here all winter?" he ventured +to ask diffidently. + +"No," she replied. "That's hardly possible." + +"Then good-by--until you hear my horn in the road down yonder." + +"Good-by, Robert, and good luck!" + +She gave him both her hands, for a moment, with a tenderness that +lingered with him far on his way. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +INTERLUDE + + +August ripened into September, and the Park underwent a subtle and +fascinating change. In the meadows the hay lay in long windrows, +golden green; on the slopes vermilion flowers succeeded blue; in the +sunsets tender pinks yielded to burnt orange and vivid red. The nights +had grown perceptibly colder, but the days were still warm and dry and +radiant, though with a tang in the air that stirred the blood. And a +thousand perfumes, known and unknown, distilled from meadow and field +and forest, scented every vagrant breeze. + +Marion was soon herself again, in body if not in mind. A few long +nights of sleep, a few days in the saddle, and sufficient nourishment +(for she had neglected herself at Haig's, despite Jim's solicitude) +restored her physically to what she had been on the day of Haig's +accident. But she, too, had changed, and as subtly as the season. + +"What's come over Marion?" asked Huntington of Claire one day, after +he had caught himself regarding her with the rapt interest of a +discoverer. + +Claire looked at him pityingly. She knew, but she was not going to +tell him. + +"Why?" she asked innocently. + +"Well, I don't exactly know," he replied doubtfully. "She's prettier +than ever--but so are you. That isn't it. She's kind of--It's no use. +I don't know." + +Claire laughed, and then became severe. + +"That's because she's forgiven you," she said. + +"No, it isn't!" he asseverated, not without embarrassment. "You can +see for yourself that she's different." + +"Very well!" she retorted maliciously. "Perhaps if you'd done such a +noble thing as nursing Haig back to life you'd be different too." + +"I'd see him in--" + +"Shame!" she cried. "You wouldn't do anything of the kind. Your bark's +worse than your bite, sir. And besides, while I think of it, you +really must stop saying 'hell' and 'damn' so much. The habit's growing +on you." + +Having no ready answer to that speech, he merely looked at her, +perhaps a little guiltily, then bent down and kissed her, and hurried +out of the house. He was, in truth, though he never would have had the +courage to acknowledge it, even to Claire, ashamed of himself, and +anxious too. His inflammable temper had rather out-flamed itself in +its last-recorded performance, and he had begun to suspect that it had +been responsible for some, though by no means all, of his troubles. +The killing of Haig's bull, he now realized, was a foolish and +indefensible act, which could be traced easily to him because of the +bull that was gored; and he must prepare to account to Haig for it. +And so, knowing that he would again be in the wrong, as in the affair +at the post-office, he was torn between accentuated bitterness toward +Haig and growing discontent with himself. He would never be afraid of +Haig, but he was becoming steadily more afraid of Marion. Whether it +was that he had really developed intuition, which told him of Marion's +spiritual growth, or that he was in constant dread lest she make some +new demand upon him in regard to Haig, he lived in much awe of her. +She had once spoken, on a memorable occasion, of making peace between +Haig and himself. It would be just like her, wouldn't it, to try to +bring them together? Well, let her try it! He would be the last man in +Paradise Park. And so on, until he was once more almost satisfied with +himself. + +The faithful Smythe, meanwhile, brought Marion almost daily news of +Philip. That he was rapidly recovering she heard with a ringing joy, +which had its alloy of fear; for she knew that the day he felt himself +to be in full possession of his powers he would attempt again to +conquer Sunnysides. So from day to day her apprehension mounted until +it became well-nigh insupportable. And her own helplessness maddened +her. What could she do? Nothing! Nothing but wait, and pray God to +protect him. Every night she prayed for him, and every morning, on her +knees; and every hour the prayer was in her heart. She rode sometimes +as far as the farther edge of the woods that crowned the ridge, and +looked long at the little valley, and at the smoke rising in a thin +spiral from the ranch house that she could not see. At the right of it +would be the cottage, and at the left the barn, and the corral where +Sunnysides bided his time. And then, having looked until she could +endure no more, she would ride slowly home, to await the next coming +of Smythe with news. + +Once she went to the glade of the columbines. She did not feel any +longer the antipathy she once felt to the spot that had, in one +devastating moment, revealed to her the fatuity of her dreams. Now she +was in search of the old hopes that she had once revelled in, while +she gathered armloads of columbines, and imagined they were for +Philip. + +Dismounting eagerly at the foot of the little hill, she plunged +through the brush, and halted at the margin of the glade, stricken +with the keenest disappointment. The columbines were gone; only a +brave, pale blossom here and there lingered pathetically in a waste of +dried and drooping stems. She stood staring at them a moment; then, +with a cry, she threw herself down among them, and gave herself up to +grief, letting the tears come in what flood they would, while her hand +clutched one poor survivor of the summer glory. + +Gone, then, like the summer, were all those dreams. And very soon must +come the end of all. Barely two weeks remained to her in the +Park,--barely two weeks in which the miracle that she awaited could be +wrought. What miracle could move him when her love had failed? And +yet--Once, in her desperation, she suggested to Claire and Seth that +she should remain all winter in the Park; but they rose up together +against any such scheme. It was absurd, they agreed. They would be +delighted to have her with them as many summers as she might wish; and +they were already counting on her return to them next June. But the +Park in winter was no place for a woman, unless she had been long +inured to such hardships as were involved in that hibernation. Claire +had remained two winters there, it was true, but Seth had vowed that +she should never miss the last stage again. Marion's proposal only +clinched the matter the more firmly; and it was eventually agreed that +Claire should go with Marion to New York, where they would live very +quietly, taking what pleasures their means would permit, until spring +should bring them back to the mountains. And so, barring a miracle, +she was at the end of her hopes. + +Meanwhile, she had heard from Robert. He was nearly wild, he wrote. +The big deal was going slowly--not badly, but with maddening delays. +He was tempted to "chuck the whole business," though it meant +thousands, perhaps half a million. Yet how could he do that? He was +working for her; and if he left Denver the deal would certainly fall +through. But there was yet time; any day the stubborn partner might +yield; and so on. Poor Robert! thought Marion. She imagined what +Philip would have done if he had wanted her as Robert did. Would any +deal, any prospect of millions, have kept him away from her? So she +reasoned, forgetting entirely the other side of the case. Haig, if she +could have asked him, would have told her: yes, that's all very well, +but the man would have to get those thousands or other thousands +afterwards, just the same; a woman wants to have her cake and eat it +too; and so much the worse for the man if he cannot dance attendance +on her and make money for her at the same time! + +She wrote to Robert that be must not think of leaving his business. +Moreover, she would soon be in Denver, on her way back home. + +In the late afternoon Haig leaned against Sunnysides' corral, smoking +his pipe and gazing fixedly at the golden outlaw. The air was very +still, almost too still, as if nature had paused before a sudden +and violent alteration of her mood. In the bright sky, a little +hard even for September, there was no cloud, except on the western +horizon, where dark vapors hovered over the bald head of Thunder +Mountain. The scent of the harvest in the meadows blended with the +odor of burning pine that came from the ranch house, where Flick built +the fire for supper. On the hill the pines were still, but the brook +babbled on, and there was an incessant low twittering of birds in +the cottonwoods. + +Haig had now fully recovered. He had taken to his horse again some +days before, to ride a little the first day, and more the next, each +day adding something to his exercise, until he felt the blood running +warmly in his veins, and his muscles tightening at his will. Then he +had hardened himself with every kind of labor around the ranch. For he +was impatient to remove the stigma of doubt that Sunnysides had burned +into his soul. He had told Marion that she was incapable of +understanding why he must conquer Sunnysides. He was not sure that he +understood it himself. But he knew that he must. Ever since that day +when he had fled into the world he had fought to be master of himself; +and his way of being master of himself was to be master of every man +and every animal and every obstacle that appeared across his +path,--that irresponsible, uncharted path that had neither beginning +nor end, that led he knew not where nor cared. Every moment was a +moment to itself, and every day was its own if he had done what he +had set out to do. His one purpose in life was not to be beaten, never +to fail, though he should throw away to-morrow what he had won to-day. +So it was that to conquer Sunnysides was for the moment the one thing +that counted, and he would have no rest until it was done. + +Twilight settled down upon the valley. Haig's pipe went out, and still +he stood gazing at Sunnysides. In the dusk the horse glowed like a +living jewel that holds the light when the sun has gone. Night fell, +and the golden hide became a shimmer in the dark, as the outlaw moved +restlessly to and fro in his prison. Then, of a sudden, with the +unexpectedness and unreason of a dog's wolf-howl at the rising moon, +there rose from the gloom of the corral a shrill, wild neigh that +shattered the peaceful silence of the night. + +Haig left the fence, and walked swiftly to the barn. + +"Farrish!" he said shortly. "We'll break Sunnysides to-morrow. Tell +Pete and Curly not to ride away in the morning. The cattle can wait." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE CHALLENGE OF THE BRUTE + + +There had been yellow, mellow weather for weeks on weeks, but this day +dawned hard and cold. Some projected rancor of the winter was in the +air. Westward the peaks were blanketed with thick gray clouds, while +eastward a sullen redness showed where the sun strove to rise on an +angry world. The wind was the kind that scrapes raw the nerves, +buffeting man and beast with cross-currents and unexpected blasts, +howling and shrieking around chimneys and gables, covering everything +with dust and sand. + +Haig awoke to hear the wind tearing at the shutters and the roof, the +pines on the hillside thundering like surf, the hills reverberating +with the maddest trumpetings. He lay a moment listening; his pulse +quickened, at the sound of all that tumult; and he leaped from his bed +calling loudly for Slim Jim. It was a day for battle. The very +elements were up and at it, as if all nature had enlisted in the +struggle between man and brute. + +For all his eagerness, he ate his breakfast leisurely, resolved to +make no such error as he had made before. There should be no mad haste +and no anger; no working on an empty stomach, on nerves drawn taut. +Bacon and eggs and buckwheat cakes, with coffee and a single pipe, +occupied an hour or more; and then, feeling fit for anything, he set +out for the corrals. + +He did not scruple this time to take every precaution known to the +experts of the corrals. Bill was mounted on the wisest horse in the +stables, with a lariat ready against the event of Sunnysides trying +the fence again. Then Haig directed Farrish, Curly, and Pete to rope +and saddle the outlaw, saving himself for the supreme struggle. But to +their astonishment there was none of the difficulties in the +preliminaries that they encountered on the previous occasion; only two +or three vicious movements, no more. + +"Foxy, ain't you?" said Farrish to the outlaw, when the saddle was on. +"Savin' yourself, are you, you yellow devil?" + +The horse was led as before into the larger corral. He stepped nimbly, +obediently, as if resistance were the farthest thing from his +thoughts, even when Haig, his arch-enemy, walked up to him, grasped +the bridle, and looked steadily into his eyes. For a moment all stood +still, as the challenge passed between man and brute. Then Haig tested +the cinches of the saddle, looked carefully around him, and disposed +the men with a final word to each. + +"Now then! Off with it!" + +Farrish removed the last rope, and then only the bridle rein in Haig's +hand, and the fence yonder, stoutly repaired since the last battle, +remained between Sunnysides and the sandhills of the San Luis. True, +only a fence and a guard had held him all these weeks of his +captivity, but that fence had been built up, on his arrival, two +planks higher than the one in which he now found himself again, and +from which he had all but escaped at the first opportunity. + +Haig put his feet cautiously into the stirrup, and sprang into the +saddle. He was prepared for a repetition of the trick that had almost +cost him his life, and ready to swing himself out of the saddle if +Sunnysides should go over backward again. But the horse was indeed +"foxy"; one would have said that he knew his man, and would waste no +time or energy on manoeuvers that his enemy had discounted. For some +seconds he stood quite motionless, while Haig settled firmly in his +seat, and gripped the bridle rein expectantly. At length the horse +lifted and turned his head, and looked, as it appeared, toward the +western mountains, half hidden in the gray swirl of clouds. + +"Yes, over there's the San Luis," muttered Haig. "But it's a long way, +and you're not going." + +Farrish grinned. But Pete stood like a wooden Indian, so still and +intent was he, with his black eyes fixed on the outlaw. Curly loosened +the coils of the lariat in his hands. In a corner of the corral Bill, +mounted and watchful, held his rope ready for a throw. + +Still Sunnysides did not move. But his tail swished with the slow and +menacing movement of a tiger's, and there was just a quiver of muscles +under his golden hide. + +"Watch out!" called Pete. + +And then it came. The horse bounded into the air, and came down +stiff-legged, with a jolt that Haig felt in every bone. Then he leaped +sideways half a dozen feet, and Haig was flung far over, hanging +perilously in the saddle. With almost one motion the horse was in the +air again, to come down with the same frightful, jarring shock. +Instantly thereupon he lunged forward, stopped short, ducked his head, +and narrowly missed hurling Haig like a stone from a catapult. + +All these tactics were repeated with variations; and then, of a +sudden, as if he thought Haig had forgotten his experience by this +time, he reared, and with the same lightning swiftness as before, went +over backward on the ground. But Haig was too quick for him. He swung +himself to one side, released his right foot from the stirrup, and +rolled away from beneath the horse as they came down with a crash. At +the same instant Pete and Curly rushed in, and the horse leaped to his +feet only to be brought down again with two ropes on his legs. + +Haig, dusty but uninjured, was on his feet in a jiffy, and leaning +over the thwarted outlaw. + +"You didn't really think you could do it again, did you?" he said. + +"But he's a hellyun, though, ain't he!" ejaculated Curly, bracing +himself on his rope. + +The horse was allowed to rise; Haig climbed cautiously into the saddle +once more; and the same tense silence as the first ensued, while +Sunnysides waited, as if for inspiration. + +Then it was on as before, but with accentuated fury. The horse, for +his opening demonstration, bucked with his back curved like a steel +bow. Haig was almost propelled into the air, but hung on desperately; +and as the outlaw came down on stiffened legs Haig jabbed the spurs +viciously into his flanks. For Sunnysides had been too calculating in +his measures; it was desirable to stir him up, to anger him, to +torment him until he should wear himself out with his furious +struggles. + +The spurs did it. In an instant Sunnysides was a demon. All that he +had done was like the antics of a colt compared with what followed. No +eye in the corral could follow and record all his movements. He was in +every part of the enclosure at once, it seemed. There were instants, +too, when he appeared to have disassociated himself from the earth, +and to have taken to the air as his element. And then the earth rang +again with the clatter of his hoofs; his four legs became a hundred, +and then were four again, pounding like piledrivers, like steel +drills. He flung himself against the fence until it swayed and +creaked, and Haig's legs were bruised by the violent contact. Clouds +of dust rose and hung above the enclosure, and settled on the outlaw's +wet shoulders, on Haig's sweating face, in his eyes and nostrils, and +in his throat until he was fairly choking. But though half-blinded, +dizzy, and aching in all his body, Haig hung on, and dug the spurs +ceaselessly into the horse's flanks. + +"God! He's got him!" cried Farrish. + +"Your game's up!" yelled Curly tauntingly, dancing with joy in his +corner of the corral. + +But the game was not up. Curly's words were barely out of his mouth +when something went wrong with Haig. Just what happened none could be +quite sure of, then or afterward; but in the midst of Sunnysides' +plungings, there came a windmill kind of movement, rather like the +whirling of a dervish, out of which the horse lunged swiftly forward, +and halted violently, with his head down, and his forelegs stiff +before him. It was apparently an elaboration of one of the commonest +tricks of all; and if Haig could have stuck to the saddle then he +probably would have won. But he was thrown. He went sprawling over the +horse's lowered head, and struck the ground on his head and shoulders, +and lay still. + +What followed was more marvelous even than the unseating of Haig with +the shout of victory already rising to his lips. There came a +snort that ended in a scream; and then a flash of yellow through the +dust. Bill Craven, on his horse at one side of the corral, saw it +coming straight toward him, and tried to whirl his noose. Too late. +The outlaw was upon him; his own pony, rearing, was caught unbalanced; +and Bill himself instinctively leaned backward in the saddle. +There was a terrific impact; the pony was struck squarely on the left +fore-quarter; and horse and rider went down together in a heap against +the fence. Then over them went the outlaw, trampling them as he +leaped and clambered, taking the top plank with him as he landed +outside the corral on his head and knees. In an instant he was up; in +another, or the same instant, he was off, with his head down, and +belly to earth, with the speed of a race-horse and the frenzy of a +wild thing set free. + +Haig was only slightly stunned by the fall. He heard, though he did +not see, the escape of Sunnysides; and for one black moment all in the +present was blotted out. But that was only the dizziness, and the +reeling pain in his head; and there was the sky filled with +gray-black, contending clouds; and Pete was leaning over him. + +"Hurt?" asked the Indian. + +"No." + +He reached up one hand, and Pete helped him to his feet. Swaying a +little, he looked around the corral. Farrish was on the outside, +gazing down the road where Sunnysides was now almost out of sight, a +mere yellow spot in a cloud of dust. Curly was jerking Craven's horse +to its feet. + +"What's the matter there?" called Haig. + +"Bill's hurt!" answered Curly. + +With Pete at his side, not yet assured that all was well with him, +Haig walked unsteadily to where Bill lay against the fence. + +"What is it, Craven?" he asked. + +"Leg broke. My horse fell on me," Bill answered weakly. He had, +besides, a gash in the left side of his head, from which the blood +flowed down his face. + +"Into the barn with him!" Haig ordered quietly. + +They placed him on a cot, and Pete gave him a long pull at his +ever-ready flask. + +"I'm sorry, Bill!" said Haig, looking down at him. + +"It's my own fault," replied Craven. "An' it serves me damned right +for lettin' him get by me." + +Haig smiled grimly, then turned to the other men with orders. He was +ominously quiet; even the dullest of them, the slow-witted Curly, saw +and wondered at the unusual calm that showed on his face and in his +accents. + +"Now then, business!" he said, with swift decision. "You'll take the +sorrels, Curly, and drive to Tellurium for the doctor. Don't be afraid +to drive them; I'll not be on your back for that. Pete, go to the +cottage, and bring my gun. Jim knows where it is. Farrish--where's +Farrish?" + +"Here!" + +He came leading two ponies from their stalls. + +"What are you doing, Farrish?" + +"I supposed we'd better find out where he's gone, and see if--" + +"There's no doubt where he's headed for, is there?" Haig interrupted. +"And who's going to stop him? No, saddle Trixy!" + +"But you're not going alone?" said Farrish. + +"Yes." + +"But--" + +"Bill's knocked out. Curly's off as soon as he can start for +Tellurium. That leaves you and Pete to look after the ranch. I may be +gone some time." + +"But you can't rope him alone!" protested Farrish. + +"I don't expect to. There isn't a horse in the Park that could +overtake him. He'll make for the San Luis, of course. I'll get help +there. Now then, Farrish, you're in charge of the ranch. If anything +should happen to me, Jim knows where all my papers are. That's all." + +Farrish hastened to saddle Trixy, coiling a rope at the saddle horn, +and strapping a slicker behind the saddle. At this moment came Pete +from the cottage, bringing the revolver and cartridge belt, which Haig +buckled on while Farrish led Trixy out in front of the stable. + +There was a word or two more to Farrish, about the cattle and the hay, +and Haig swung himself into the saddle. + +"Wait!" cried Pete, running out of the stable. + +He handed a flask of whisky to Haig, who took it, smiling, and thrust +it into a pocket of his coat. + +"Sure cure for everything, eh, Pete?" + +But he reached down, and clasped Pete's hand. + +"You will be cold, maybe," said the Indian simply. + +"All right, men!" said Haig. "You'll take good care of Craven, of +course. And you'll use your best judgment about everything, Farrish. +I'm not coming back without Sunnysides." + +He put spurs to the little bay mare, and dashed away. Pete and Farrish +stood watching him until he had turned the point of the ridge. + +"Hell!" said Farrish. + +In the cottage door stood a figure in blue silks, intently gazing +after the disappearing horseman. + +"He catchum, allee light!" murmured Slim Jim. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +SMYTHE'S LAST BUDGET + + +Seth had heard at the post-office that the deer were coming down +unusually early from their summer haunts high in the mountains. A fine +herd had been seen just above Bratner's, and Seth proposed to Marion +that she should have a try at them. They would start early in the +morning, stop the night at Bratner's, and be back home late the second +evening. Marion reluctantly consented, and before going to bed that +night she laid out woolen underwear, her stoutest riding costume, with +divided skirts and knickerbockers and tan boots lacing almost to her +knees. She did not want to go, but, as more than once before, she +yielded to Seth's insistence rather than attempt an explanation. + +That night, however, summer departed from the Park. A dry storm +descended on the valley, and Marion lay awake while the wind howled +around the corners of the ranch house, of which every timber seemed to +be crying out in agony. She knew that high among the rocks the storm +was smashing about in fury, and even in its sheltered hollow the house +was hammered as if the elements were bent upon its annihilation. When +each prodigious outcry had spent itself and died away there was still +the moaning and fretting and troubled whimpering that reminded her of +the plaints of an invalid pleading for help between paroxysms of pain. +She was strangely depressed by it, unaccountably distressed, and was +glad when the first faint whitening of the window curtains told her of +the dawn. She arose and dressed--after a moment's hesitation--in the +costume she had prepared the night before. Seth surely would not +insist on the shooting trip in such weather, she thought, but it would +please him to see her dressed for it. Besides, the temperature of her +room reminded her that she would need warm clothes if she went out +anywhere on such a day. + +"Good, Marion!" cried Seth sure enough, when he saw her at the +breakfast table. "Glad you're not discouraged by a little wind." + +"But--you don't mean to go on a day like this?" + +"Why not?" + +"The wind, and--we'll get soaking wet." + +"No, it's only a wind storm, and this is the tail end of it. The +sun'll be out in a couple of hours. We needn't start in a hurry. We'll +leave the horses as they are--they're all ready, bundles and the +rest--until we see." + +Seth's optimism annoyed her, but she felt encouraged when, after +breakfast, she stepped out on the veranda and met the cold and +quarrelsome day. A rough blast struck her in the face; she saw a +ragged drift of clouds torn by the wind; and the whole landscape +seemed to have undergone a melancholy change. Dispirited beyond +measure, despite the one satisfaction that the weather gave, she +re-entered the house, and sank uneasily into an armchair by the fire. + +But Seth's prediction was justified. Toward ten o'clock the wind +ceased, and patches of blue began to show in the blanket of gray. +Claire shared Marion's disinclination to go shooting on such a day (or +any other kind of a day, for her part!), and they stood at the window +actually deploring the blue rents in the clouds, when Marion uttered a +sharp exclamation of surprise. + +"Smythe!" she gasped. + +"On a day like this!" cried Claire. + +He had dismounted quickly, and was walking toward the house; and as he +neared the steps Marion saw in his face what caused her to press her +hand on her bosom to still her heart. Something had happened! And she +had known it all the time--had known it even in her sleep! + +Claire ran to the door and opened it. + +"Well, Mr. Smythe!" she cried. "You're just in time to cheer us up. +We're deep in the mulligrubs." + +He entered smiling, removing his sombrero with his customary flourish. +But as he advanced he shot a swift, keen look at Marion. + +"Something's happened!" she repeated to herself. + +But she came forward with a smile, and shook hands with Smythe, +searching his face. And he was warning her again. She could have +shrieked with impatience and anxiety, but she held herself, and +waited. + +"A terrible night, wasn't it?" said Claire, giving Smythe a chair. + +"Terrific!" replied he. "You know the big pine that hung over the road +just this side of Toumine's? Well, it's down, right across the road. I +had to ride around it, up among the underbrush." + +"I didn't sleep at all, and I'm used to winds, too," said Claire. + +"It got me up at daylight," Smythe went on. "It didn't look like much +of a day for riding, but I got nervous sitting around listening to my +good landlady--one of the young Martins is threatened with something +or other--and started out to see how the landscape had been changed. +There are trees down everywhere, and--" He paused. "What are you doing +this morning, Miss Gaylord?" he asked, very casually. + +She had been silent, watching him. + +"We were going shooting, but we've been waiting to see if the weather +would change." + +"Then you haven't been out?" + +"Only on the veranda for a minute." + +"Let's take a brisk walk, then. It'll do you good--warm you up a +little." + +"Yes," she said weakly. + +She went to her room for her hat, and pinning it on before the mirror, +started at sight of her face, which had grown very white. She was +almost incapable of thought. The hatpin slipped from her cold fingers, +and fell to the floor. She stared at it strangely before stooping to +pick it up. How could she bear to hear what Smythe had come to tell +her! But it was good of him to wait until he could tell her alone. + +"Will you go too, Mrs. Huntington?" Smythe said, as Marion emerged +from her room. + +Claire looked at Marion, and wondered at the whiteness of her face, +and the haunted look in her eyes. Nothing had been said, but she saw +there was something. + +"No, thank you!" she said promptly. "The house suits me this +morning." + +Smythe and Marion walked up the hill toward the tree where Marion had +practised shooting. Until they reached it neither spoke. + +"Well?" said Marion, turning suddenly on him. + +"Sunnysides has got away." + +"And he?" she cried. + +"Thrown, but not hurt." + +She stared at him a moment, dazed. Then she threw back her head, and +clasped her hands on her breast. + +"Oh!" she murmured. "But how you frightened me!" + +Smythe looked at her silently; and presently, when she lowered her +eyes, she saw that his face was very grave. But Haig was unhurt, and +Sunnysides had escaped. She had prayed for just that. + +"What is it?" she cried, leaning forward to clutch his arm. + +"He's following." + +"Following?" + +"Yes. Alone." + +"Where?" + +"Yonder." + +He pointed to the west. + +"To the San Luis?" + +"Yes." + +"The way they brought him here?" + +"No. Sunnysides has taken the trail over Thunder Mountain." + +Her hand fell from his arm. She swayed, as if she would collapse. +Smythe grabbed her, with an arm around her waist, and led her, +unresisting and dumb, to a near rock, where he seated her gently, and +stood watching her. He had been too abrupt, he thought; but how else +could he have told her? + +She struggled bravely. + +"Tell me!" she said at length. + +He knew little about the event at the ranch. There had been a terrific +struggle; Haig had almost conquered; then the outlaw had flung him +over his head, trampled one of his men, breaking his leg, and leaped +the fence to liberty. + +"But--Thunder Mountain?" cried Marion. + +"That's the strangest part of it," Smythe replied. "Even Haig refused +at first to believe it. Nobody knows whether it was deliberate or +accidental. It seems that 'Red' Davis, who works for Toumine, was +taking a load of hay to Lake Cobalt. He'd stopped just beyond the +junction of the main road and Haig's to fix the harness or something, +when he heard a furious galloping in Haig's road. He looked--and +Sunnysides must have been something worth seeing, as he came storming +down on the boy, with red eyes and foaming lips, the bridle reins +dangling at his knees, and the stirrups flying. 'Red' had never seen +him, but he'd heard a lot, and he jumped behind the wagon as if the +devil was after him. But the clatter of hoofs ceased suddenly, and the +boy peered around the hay to see what had happened. There was +Sunnysides, just at the junction, with his head high, snorting and +sniffing, first in the direction of the wagon, and then the other way +up the road. With a characteristic boyish burst of daring or deviltry, +'Red' leaped out from his shelter, and yelled. The horse leaped into +the air, let out a wild neigh, and bolted up the road toward the +post-office. + +"'Red' watched him until he had disappeared, and then drove on. It +must have been half an hour later that he heard more mad galloping +behind him. He turned to look, and there came Haig, riding like all +fury. + +"'Have you seen a horse?' he yelled as he reined up alongside the +wagon. + +"'Well I just guess!' said the boy. 'Sunnysides. How did he--?' + +"'How was the saddle--loose or not?' asked Haig. + +"'No, it hadn't turned--if that's what--' + +"'Thank you!' replied Haig, starting on. + +"'Wait!' the boy shouted. 'He ain't gone that way!' + +"'What?' + +"'I say, he ain't gone that way.' + +"Haig stared at him suspiciously. Was the boy trying to trick him, in +emulation of his elders? He was about to ride on, disdaining to heed +him, when something in the boy's honest face struck his attention. + +"'Are you dreaming?' he cried. + +"'No, I ain't!' retorted Davis, deeply offended. + +"'Where did he go then?' demanded Haig. + +"'Yander,' answered 'Red.' + +"Haig was incredulous. + +"'It's the truth!' protested the boy. And then he told Haig what he +had seen. + +"'But how in hell--' Haig began. + +"Then suddenly it came to him. + +"'Thunder Mountain!' he cried. Then, half to himself: 'The trail drops +down from Thunder Mountain--somewhere--into the Black Lake country, +and then--over the Sangre de Cristo is the San Luis. _But how does he +know that?_' + +"'He knows a lot, he does!' said 'Red.' + +"Then Haig was off, flinging back 'Thank you!' at the boy. But he took +the precaution to confirm 'Red's' story at the post-office. Thompson +himself had seen Sunnysides, still going like the wind. Tom Banks came +in a little later with news of the outlaw well up the road toward +Norton's, and Haig after him. So there's no doubt the way they've +gone. But it's a losing game if Sunnysides can keep up the speed he +was hitting when he was last seen." + +"A losing game!" She, better than anybody else in the Park, knew what +that meant. She rose slowly, and looked across the Park at Thunder +Mountain, now lost among the clouds. No, not quite; for through a rift +she was just able to make out the timber line on the mountain's +jutting shoulder. Above that she knew the bleak rocks rose sheer to +the bald head that was battered by tempests, seared by lightning, +swept smooth by the winds that never ceased. + +So this was the message! This was what Thunder Mountain had said to +her! This was the answer to her questions! Day after day she had +studied it, when storms gathered on that frowning head, when vapors +made a smudge there in the midst of the glittering assemblage of the +peaks, and when, for a meager hour, once in a while, the summit stood +clear in the sunshine, as if the tortured mountain, condemned to +everlasting punishment, had been given a brief reprieve. + +Now, at last, she understood. Somewhere on that evil trail was Philip. +He could never cross Thunder Mountain! Sunnysides might, perhaps; but +he--he had tried, and failed. Others had tried, and--died for it. But +he would try again; she knew how desperately he would throw himself +upon that fatal head. And then? It was the end! + +But she must know. She could not stay there. + +She started down the hill, running; and Smythe followed her in +amazement and alarm. He did not like that last look on her face. + +"Wait!" he called, in a voice that for once rang with authority. + +She stopped, and let him overtake her. + +"What are you doing?" he demanded. + +"I'm going to Murray's--for news," she answered. + +"No!" he cried. "That's madness." + +"It's necessary," she rejoined. "And there's no danger." + +"How do you know?" + +"I met Mrs. Murray once at the post-office. She talked to me about +Murray's ranch--it's in a gulch just below timber line. She asked me +to come and visit her--and I'm going." + +"Then I'll go with you!" retorted Smythe. + +She looked at him intently, and smiled in a way that puzzled and +disturbed him. But before he could make any considerable effort to +analyze it, the smile had fled, and he was following Marion helplessly +down the hill. + +At the steps of the veranda she paused, and waited for him. + +"I'll be out in a minute," she said; and left him seating himself +uneasily, his perplexity plainly showing in his face. + +Marion opened the door, and faltered on the threshold. Seth was there +with Claire; and she must face them both. + +"Mr. Smythe wants me to go for a ride with him," she said, advancing +smilingly. "We can start to-morrow on the shooting trip, can't we, +Cousin Seth?" + +She had not often called him "Cousin Seth" of late; and he was +delighted. + +"Well," he said reflectively, "I'd rather planned starting to-day, but +if to-morrow suits you better it's all right, Marion. Go along with +your young man!" + +Claire was studying her anxiously, and Marion hastened to disarm her. + +"Thank you, Seth!" she said. "You see, I'm not feeling quite myself +this morning--such a night I had! A short ride will be about all I'm +good for. I'll feel better to-morrow." + +"Well, then, dear," said Claire, "you'll not be gone long, will you?" + +"Don't worry!" was the evasive reply. "Mr. Smythe will take good care +of me." + +On that she kissed Claire, nodded brightly to Huntington, and hurried +away. Almost running in her eagerness, she led the way to the stable, +where two horses stood saddled, with rifles in leather cases hanging +from the saddlebows, and bundles strapped behind. Smythe started to +remove the gun from Tuesday's saddle. + +"No, leave it there!" commanded Marion. + +"Certainly. But why?" asked Smythe. + +"I don't know," she replied. "It just occurred to me." + +"But the bundle? You won't need that." + +"No. But yes--leave it! It's not very big." + +Smythe looked at her keenly, and with a vague suspicion; but there was +no confusion in her face or manner. She was, in fact, not thinking of +the bundle or the gun; or if she thought of them--Such rigid +instruments as words, worn blunt with usage and misuse, are quite +inadequate to describe the faint and fugitive character of that +thought,--the idea still in its inception, inchoate, embryo. She was +going to Murray's for news of Philip Haig; and all beyond that purpose +was--beyond. + +Smythe was not satisfied, but he could say no more; for Marion was +already mounting Tuesday, and he could only follow. + +At the edge of the little wood below the ranch house Marion turned in +the saddle, and saw Claire standing in the doorway. She waved her +hand, and Claire waved hers in response; and then the trees came +between them, as they had done a hundred times that summer. But now a +lump rose in Marion's throat. Dear Claire! She had been so good to +her! + +They emerged from the woods, and Marion spurred Tuesday to the gallop, +and Smythe came galloping behind. For some distance down the valley +she made a point of keeping well ahead of him, by this means avoiding +conversation, for which she was not prepared. Her eyes continually +sought the dark, gaunt mass of rock that was then, little by little, +breaking through the reek on Thunder Mountain. Philip would be up +there soon. He had--how many hours the start of her? She checked +Tuesday's gait, and let Smythe come up beside her. + +"What time was it when he passed the post-office?" she asked. + +"About eight o'clock." + +And now it was almost noon! She spurred her pony on. + +They turned the corner at Thompson's, galloping, and caught a glimpse +of Mrs. Thompson in the doorway, with a look of wonder on her face. +Two miles beyond they swerved without lessening their speed into a +less-traveled road that presently was winding in and out among the +timber, which opened at the end of another mile, and showed them +Norton's ranch in its sheltered valley among the foothills. It was +from Norton's, or near it, that the last word had come of Haig and +Sunnysides; so there was no need to stop for confirmation of their +direction. The valley narrowed to a gulch, and the forest came down on +either side, and the road ahead of them was swallowed up in shade. + +Here, as if at the entrance to some unknown (for she had never been +past Norton's, in all her rides about the Park), her purpose required +that Marion should rid herself of Smythe. Moreover, there was Claire +to be thought of; and she did not want Huntington to be riding up the +trail after her that night. + +"Now, Mr. Smythe," she said, reining up in the first shadow of the +woods, "I've something for you to do for me." + +"What is it?" he asked in surprise. + +"I want you to leave me now, and take a message to Mrs. Huntington." + +"But I can't--leave you." + +"Yes, you must." + +"But you're not going on alone!" + +"I'm not afraid. I've got my rifle. Besides, I'll be at Murray's +before dark, and there, as you know, I shall be in good hands. But +Claire will worry unless she knows where I am." + +"She'll worry just the same." + +"No. She knows Mrs. Murray very well." + +"But----" + +"Good-by, Mr. Smythe!" + +She reached her hand to him, and he took it reluctantly. + +"It's all wrong, Miss Gaylord!" he protested. "I'm convinced that I'm +acting like a fool. If anything happens to you, I'll----" + +"Nothing will happen to me. Good-by!" + +Smythe watched her until she was swallowed up by the woods; he looked +at the pines piling up to the distant crests of the mountains, mass on +mass, and solitude enfolding deeper solitude; he listened to the long, +low, rolling murmur of the forest, sweet but menacing. Then, with the +inward comment that he was several kinds of a blithering idiot, he +turned and rode back toward the Park, evolving various interesting but +futile theories to explain the fact that he, a man of undoubted +intelligence, had always acted the part of the giddy fool in moments +of emergency. And there was Huntington--another fool! He could foresee +a pretty dialogue between them. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +"THE TRAIL HELD TRUE" + + +The forest enveloped her, but she sheltered herself in its heart, and +was glad of its soothing silence. The wind had died down to a rustling +murmur in the highest foliage; through rifts in the dark-green canopy +she caught glimpses of a cool blue sky; and there was a rooty +sweetness in the air. + +Mile by mile the road, a mere track traveled by Murray's team at long +intervals, grew rougher and more difficult. Soon it had abandoned the +easy grades for the gulch, and climbed steep mountain sides, in a +devious course through heavy timber, dropping to tumbling rivulets, +climbing again to hang on the edges of high cliffs, dodging here and +there among massive, outjutting rocks. Four hours she rode thus, +mounting, ever mounting, with glimpses now and then of the forests +massed green-black below, and glimpses even of the Park itself, around +the shoulder of a hill,--a patch of green and violet bright with +sunshine. And then, when weariness had begun to weigh upon her, and as +the shadows of the forest turned to glooms, she saw with a thrill of +expectation that the road dipped ahead of her into a little gulch that +lay hidden away in a cleft of the mountains. She must surely be near +her destination now; and sure enough, she was riding presently along +the bank of a roaring stream; beyond her was a small meadow of a +brilliant green, and at the far edge of it a log cabin, with friendly +smoke curling from the chimney. + +But she was surprised and disappointed. She had expected, on reaching +Murray's, to see the stark head of Thunder Mountain towering above it, +near and sheer. It was nowhere visible; not even the silvery peaks, +its neighbors, were to be seen; there were only forests heaped on +forests to the sky line. The trail, then, must be longer than she +thought; and she seemed to be no closer to him than when she had +studied the bald head of the mountain through the clouds. + +She was welcomed by Mrs. Murray with cordiality, but in some surprise. +A stout and jovial person, whose spirits appeared not to have been +lowered in the least degree by the loneliness of her surroundings, +Mrs. Murray was a helpful hostess to Marion, who was now in a state of +deep dejection. A little boy and his smaller sister, both very dirty +but rugged and red-cheeked, played in the open space before the cabin. +The week's washing was on the line, and from behind it, at the sound +of a horse's hoof beats, came Mrs. Murray, staring in amazement. +Wonders on wonders in that solitude, where nothing ever happened! +First a runaway horse of unheard-of color, saddled and bridled, +dashing past the cabin, and almost trampling the children at their +play; then Philip Haig, with his set face and burning eyes, making +inquiries, and asking for a bite to eat; and then---- + +"Well! If it ain't Miss Gaylord!" cried Mrs. Murray, as she rushed to +greet her. "What in the world----" + +She paused on that, recalling suddenly what she had heard at +Thompson's of Marion's nursing Haig back to life, and intuitively +associating her appearance there with his. Marion saw the thought +reflected in the woman's honest face, and knew that after all the +happenings of the summer, and the gossip that had followed, her better +course was to be frank with Mrs. Murray from the start. Besides she +could not wait to ask her questions by any indirection. + +"Have you seen him?" she demanded eagerly. + +"Yes, he was here--about noontime. The look on his face!" + +She threw up her hands in a gesture that indicated the abandonment of +all hope for such a man. + +"And Sunnysides?" + +"Long before him. The critter almost run over my two babies, playin' +there before the door. Poor dears, scared almost out o' their skins!" + +"What did he say?" + +"Nothin'. That is, not much. About the horse first. My man told him it +ain't no use tryin' to ketch him, an' it's foolish to try to cross +Thunder Mountain. Murray's been here ten years, an' ain't gone much +further'n the edge of it. Storms allus drove him back. An' what's the +use, when he's got wife an' childer to look after? Of course +Haig----" + +"What did he say then?" + +"He says he c'n cross if Sunnysides can, an' if they can't they'll +fight it out up there. My man asks why he didn't go 'round a safe way +an' wait for Sunnysides in the San Luis, if he thinks the horse's +goin' back home. Haig says he'd made up his mind to cross Thunder +Mountain some time, an' now's as good a time as any. But it's----" She +was checked at last by the look of anguish on Marion's face. "But you +just come in. It's supper time, almost, an' you must be right hungry. +Murray'll be here soon, an' he'll put up your horse." + +In the cabin there was to be seen at first just one big room, with two +beds at one end, a table surrounded by chairs in the middle, and a +stove in the midst of kettles and pans and tubs at the other. But +presently Marion noticed a kind of balcony above the beds, and she +learned later that this was the "spare bedroom" in which she would be +stowed away for the night. + +"He was hungry too," Mrs. Murray went on, being careful, however, to +confine herself to the material side of the subject. "He ate some +dinner, an' then, after we give up tryin' to stop him, Murray said +he'd got to take somethin' with him to eat, an' some blankets. He +hadn't a thing, mind you, an' didn't want to take nothin', but he did +take a good-sized strip o' bacon and some bread--I'd just did the +bakin'--an' a fryin'-pan an' matches an' a knife. Murray done 'em up +in a pair o' blankets, an' stuck in a leather coat with sheepskin +inside, an' hung a hatchet on his saddle. He'll need 'em--if he gits +across into the Black Lake country, which's worse some ways than +Thunder Mountain--forest't ain't never been touched, an' bad lands, +an'----" + +Murray's entrance interrupted this speech, which was becoming painful +to her guest, in spite of the good woman's resolution to say nothing +discouraging. Murray, a bearded, rough fellow in whose face shone +good nature and contentment with the living he made out of his cows +and chickens and few head of stock feeding in the mountain meadows, +received a whispered hint, and obediently talked of other things than +Haig and the runaway. They supped on bacon and eggs, with bread and +butter and milk; and an hour afterwards Marion was tucked away in a +comfortable bed in that queer "spare bedroom" up against the eaves of +the log cabin. + +Exhaustion soon brought her sleep. But in the middle of the night she +was awakened by a storm that swept high over the ranch house, scarcely +touching it in its sheltered hollow, but shrieking and wailing among +the rocks and pines. She sat up in her bed to listen! Thunder +Mountain! Before her eyes there rose, out of the dark of the cabin, a +vision of Philip prone among the rocks of that terrible summit, struck +down by the wind, or felled by a thunderbolt, drenched with rain, and +perishing of cold. There came, above the howling of the wind, a +deafening crash of thunder that rolled away in sullen bellowing. She +buried her face among the pillows to shut out the frightful sound; and +at length, when the tumult had died away to recur no more, she lay +weeping softly until sleep came again to her relief. She did not wake +again till morning. + +"How much farther up can I go?" asked Marion at breakfast. + +"You don't mean----" began Mrs. Murray in alarm. + +"No," replied Marion quickly. "I don't mean the top. But can't I ride +near enough to see it?" + +"You c'n go to timber line safe enough," said Murray. + +"Yes, I've been that far, but you mustn't think o' goin' further," +added the woman, still suspicious. "I'll tell you what! Murray'll go +with you." + +"By no means!" Marion protested. "It isn't necessary at all. I can +follow trails well enough." + +"I wish you'd let Murray go with you. He'll be glad to show you----" + +"No. Thank you just the same, Mrs. Murray, but----" + +"And you'll not try to go past timber line?" + +"Don't worry about that, please! I know I could never go where men +have failed. I've heard all about Thunder Mountain, and I just want to +see it, near. Besides----" + +She did not finish, but turned quickly away. This sign of emotion was +not hidden from Mrs. Murray, and it heightened her anxiety. Lord only +knew what the girl'd try to do once she got out of their sight! But +where the intellectual and argumentative Smythe had failed, what could +be expected of these simple mountain folk, who for all their sturdy +independence were not a little awed by the superior poise and +distinction of their visitor? Moreover, Marion was at this moment +entirely honest in her assurance that she intended to go no farther +than timber line. If the idea that lay deep in the back of her mind +had grown since its inception some hours before, it was yet formless +and unrecognized; if her purpose now had her firmly gripped, she was +as yet unconscious of it, obeying it subconsciously, while she told +herself, as she told Mrs. Murray, that she wanted only to satisfy her +aching heart by doing merely all that a girl could do. To make sure +that Philip had not already failed--that he had not been thrown back +from the very edge of the fatal crest--that he did not now lie +somewhere on the last steep slope above timber line, where she might +see and save him: this was the utmost of her design in setting out +that morning against the protests of her hosts. + +Yielding at last, where she could avail no more, the ranchwife fixed +up a simple luncheon of bread and butter and jam, which she tied in a +little package at Marion's saddlebow. And then, with a final word of +warning that she must stop at timber line, an' be back at the house +'fore dark, or she, Mrs. Murray, would be wild, and he, Murray, would +have to go searching for her, the good woman let her go, and waved a +fat farewell to her until Marion was out of sight among the trees. + +Once more the forest enfolded her. Though the wagon road ended at +Murray's, the trail was still for some distance plainly marked, and +offered few difficulties. Even when it began to be less distinct she +was not alarmed. Smythe had told her, and Murray had confirmed his +description, that Thunder Mountain was not formidable as far as the +foot of the final scarp. Seth had taught her something of the lore of +trails, and she was confident that she would be able to find her way +even if the underfoot marks should fail. There would be blazes on +trees, and broken limbs and twigs, and many subtle signs that she now +sought to marshal in her mind against a possible perplexity. With eyes +alert, she rode slowly and resolutely on, ever higher and higher, hour +after hour, most of the time through dense woods, but now and then +across a rocky slope, or down into a shallow gulch, and out again. By +imperceptible degrees the trail grew fainter; and once it failed her +utterly, in a small open space in the woods. + +For a moment she was on the very point of panic; the forest seemed to +be closing in on her with sudden malignity; and the terror of Thunder +Mountain held her in its cold grip. But desperation called up her +courage. She walked Tuesday in an ever-widening circle around the spot +where she had lost the trail, with her heart almost still, and her +eyes straining at every tree as it came within her vision. Where? +Where? Would there be no more blazes, no more broken limbs, no more +prints of hoofs on the mossy earth? Had she left the trail farther +back than she had thought? And would she wander over all the vast +bosom of the mountain until she fell from the saddle, and knew no +more? + +It was a real peril, and one that might have had a tragic termination +as easily as a happy one,--more easily, indeed, if she had lost her +head. But something strong within her kept her senses keen; and +suddenly she broke out in a cry of joy and triumph that went echoing +down the forest aisles. There, on a patriarchal pine, though almost +obliterated by time and weather, was the blaze in the bark that told +her the trail ran at the base of that solid trunk. She halted Tuesday +there--and faced a new difficulty: in her many circlings she had lost +the general direction in which she had been riding. The trail was +under her horse's hoofs; but which way should she go? There appeared +to be no ascent the one way or the other, and no slope on either +side. + +She solved the problem by following the trail regardless of direction +until she was able to discover in the black mold the fresh print of a +horse's hoof--an unshod hoof this was, and the print certainly no +older than yesterday. Without serious misgivings now, she rode on, and +in a few minutes the trail mounted again with a sharpness sufficient +to remove the last of her doubts. + +Well, she was a woodsman now, and would fear no more. But she took the +precaution to banish all thoughts excepting those necessary to the +task in hand. The woods themselves offered countless temptations to +distraction. They were alive. Grouse moved among the branches of the +trees; small birds of a very silent habit fluttered across the trail; +and once a deer slipped away through a dim and leafy avenue. In moist +places flowers of tender hues still bloomed as if to shame the autumn +browns of the underbrush. And then she emerged from the soft shades of +the green woods into one of the most melancholy of mountain places, a +great patch of burnt timber. For surely half an hour she rode through +a veritable cemetery of pines, among multitudes of tall straight +shafts from which the flames had licked the foliage and stripped the +limbs, and from which the rains and snows and winds of winter had +washed the charred bark until the boles stood white and ghastly, +infinitely sad and still. No life was here, no flutter or call or hum +of living creatures; and the silence was like a menace. She began to +cast apprehensive glances around her, and was glad to the very core of +her when the forest gradually greened again, and she was in the cool +and friendly shade. + +Yet another terrifying experience awaited her,--not terrifying in the +sense of any peril to herself so much as in its vivid suggestion of +peril to Philip Haig. Without warning there came a prodigious crash of +thunder; very near, it seemed. The whole earth rocked and shook, she +fancied, under that smashing blow, and thereupon a savage bellowing +filled the vault of heaven, and the forest quivered with the +reverberations. Hard on the first blow fell another; and then the +strokes descended in a swift and terrible succession, until there was +one continuous and deafening roar like nothing she had ever heard or +imagined. By this she knew that she was now close up under the +frowning battlement of Thunder Mountain; and that a storm had burst +upon that shelterless and unpitied head, with a malevolent timeliness +befitting its ill repute. And somewhere in the midst of that +destroying fury was Philip Haig! + +The blue tracery of sky was blotted out; the forest became dark as +night; the tree tops heaved and thrashed about in the wind that rushed +down the mountain side. On the heels of the wind came a drenching +rain, and Marion took what refuge was offered close to the trunk of a +huge pine, which shook and shivered as if it too had nerves that were +unstrung by all this tumult. + +It passed, and the sky cleared with what to her seemed extraordinary +swiftness. And when she rode out again to pick up the trail, the air +was indescribably fresh and exhilarating, and the sun was soon +filtering through the foliage upon her pathway. + +The trail grew more precipitous, its surroundings more rugged and +wild. Rocks took the place of the soft, mossy soil, and the forest +thinned and shrank. Where there had been monarchs in their majesty she +rode now among stunted pines and dwarf oaks no higher than her head. +And soon she was at timber line, where the beaten and disheartened +trees grew downward, or curled along the earth like serpents, or +spread out in fantastic, unnatural, and monstrous shapes. + +And there at last towered the bald head of Thunder Mountain. She could +not see, of course, the flat top itself. Before her rose a precipitous +slope, covered with loose stones and débris, and ending in a jagged +line of rock against the sky, dull gray against the blue. Thin grass +grew yet some distance up the slope; and then it was bare of +vegetation, bare of soil, with a wavering faint line marking where +life ended and death began. + +She halted near the last gnome-tree, and stared at the desolate slope +and the forbidding sky line. This was the end of her journey; and she +knew no more than she could have known back there in the Park. The +mountain was still the sphinx, telling her nothing, though she had +come to it at last after months of questioning, with one question on +her lips. Where was Philip? Perhaps just yonder, just beyond that +sharp-raised barrier. From that crest, no doubt, the whole expanse of +the summit would be visible. And how could she go back alone, without +being able to assure herself forever that she had done her best? + +She studied the slope. From where she stood to the gray sky line the +distance was perhaps seven hundred feet. But the trail, which she +could discern faintly marked among the loose and sliding stones, +traveled five or six times that distance in its zigzag course. +Fascinated, her eyes followed it in and out until its dim line +vanished high up in the gray-brown uniformity of the steep ascent. +From this she looked up eagerly at the sky. It was a clear steel-blue; +the sun shone bright on the expanse of stone; a vigorous but not +violent breeze came from around the distant curve of the slope. It +seemed incredible, considering all that she had heard, and all that +she had imagined. The mountain, she knew, had its brief and infrequent +hours of quiet, but she had pictured it as terrifying even in its +calm. Now it was formidable and mysterious, and she could not forget +its menace; but it was not terrible. On top, perhaps---- + +She urged Tuesday forward. The trail went far out to the right at an +easy gradient, turned sharply, and came back to reach out as far to +the left. It was more difficult than Marion had imagined, for the +reason that the loose stones afforded an ill footing for the pony, +which slipped and slid and stumbled, often going to his knees, and +more than once barely avoiding a fall that would have sent horse and +rider rolling down to be caught by the network of stunted trees. But +Tuesday was sure of foot; and so, with muscles quivering under the +strain, and his eyes bulging with anxiety and fear, he climbed up and +up without disaster, while Marion leaned far forward in the saddle, +her nerves on edge, her eyes alert, and her heart pounding wildly, as +much from excitement as from its struggle with that high altitude. + +How long that climb endured she never knew; the actual minutes seemed +to her as hours, their total an eternity. But at last, trembling and +sweating, Tuesday stood on a narrow shelf of granite, with the long +slope behind, and a wall of rock ahead. While the pony rested, Marion +looked to left and right for the continuation of the trail. She could +not see it, but knew there should be an opening somewhere in the wall +that rose sheer some twenty-five or thirty feet above her head. Slowly +riding along the platform, searching for a sign, the wall at her left, +and the declivity at her right, she came to a place where the barrier +curved inward, and was also hollowed out at its base, so that a +shallow cave (speaking loosely) was formed, where some sort of shelter +might have been found from a storm. This possibility flashed into +Marion's mind, for she could not forget the mountain and its ways. She +dismounted to look into the cave, and at two steps started forward +with a cry. + +On the rocky floor was a small heap of ashes and charred ends of +sticks. Kneeling quickly, she tore off a glove, and thrust her fingers +into the ashes. They were warm! And near the ashes she discovered the +rind of a thin slice of bacon, and a few crumbs of bread. Philip had +passed Murray's soon after midday; he would have reached the cave, +then, before night; and so he had slept there, and risen at dawn, and +eaten his meagre breakfast, and ridden on. + +She leaped to her feet, ran out and mounted her pony, and rode forward +along the platform, searching for the trail. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +IN THE HOLLOW OF THE STORM + + +Haig arrived at timber line about an hour before nightfall. On the +long trail he had considered thoroughly all the chances of his case, +and was prepared to undergo delays and disappointments. He knew +Thunder Mountain. Even without reckoning on storms (and the vapors +were at that moment settling down on the frowning battlement), it were +foolhardiness, or worse, to attempt the passage of the mountain in the +night. Then he remembered the shallow cave that he had noticed on his +previous visit to the summit; and his plans were made. + +He gathered an armful of dry sticks and shreds of bark, climbed the +treacherous slope as Marion did some hours later, and settled himself +in the half-shelter of the cave to await the morning. A rasher of +bacon, a slice of bread, and a pipe of tobacco refreshed him; and he +rolled himself in his blankets, and went to sleep. Like Marion in the +"spare bedroom" far below, he was awakened in the night by the savage +hammerings of the storm. The very rocks beneath him seemed to be +jarred by that cannonade; the wind, howling around the cliff, +threatened to drag him out of his cave; and the rain fell in torrents +on the platform, almost flooding his stone bed. But he turned over in +his blankets, and hoped the mountain would "keep it up" all night. +Even Sunnysides would be halted by a storm like that. + +He arose at the first sign of dawn, hurried through his scant and +salty breakfast, quenched his thirst with rain water scooped out of +depressions in the rock, and started on. Knowing the trail at this +point, he rode straight out along the platform, and came in half a +minute to the spot where the wall of rock was broken down into a +clutter of débris, in width some forty feet. Up through this litter of +disintegrated granite the trail lurched with many twists and turns, +and emerged at last upon one of the lower levels of the summit. + +Trixy was winded, and for a moment Haig rested her, while he surveyed +the scene. And in the thrill of that moment, facing the undertaking in +which he had once failed, he all but forgot Sunnysides. The wind was +low, and scarcely more difficult to meet than a stiff blow in the +Park; but aside from that he saw little encouraging in the prospect. +Behind him, it was true, the forests and all the hills and valleys lay +clear in the morning light, with just a thin mist clinging in the +gulches; and around him on all sides but one the sharp peaks stood up +shining white in the first rays of the sun. But in front of him gray +vapors, not yet dense enough to be described as clouds, came swirling +and tumbling toward him across the stone-littered surface of the flat. +Unless the sun should dissipate those vapors--He shrugged his +shoulders, and rode on. + +Almost fourteen thousand feet above the level of the sea, the bald +head of Thunder Mountain, stripped as it has been of its ennobling +peak, needs only three or four hundred feet to be as high as the +snow-clad summits on each side. Seen from afar, that bare head +appears to be as flat and smooth as a table, but in reality its entire +area, roughly circular in outline, and something more than three miles +in its largest diameter, is broken up into terraces, into slopes and +hillocks, into hollows and mounds, all strewn with, bowlders and loose +stones, with here and there uprearing rocks of fantastic and +suggestive shapes. There is no life there,--no birds, no conies or +chipmunks that inhabit most high places of these mountains; no +flowers, no grass, no sign of vegetation; nothing but granite. The +trail runs sometimes plainly across level reaches of loose stones, +sometimes over long smooth surfaces of rock, sometimes in and out +among wildernesses of shattered and tumbled fragments of the +mountain's blasted head. At varying intervals, particularly in its +more difficult stages, it is marked by small pyramids of stones, and +by crosses cut crudely in the rock. Care must be taken not to miss one +of these marks; for the trail, in avoiding inaccessible heaps of +granite, goes in places perilously near the edge of the summit, which +falls away in more than one known precipice a thousand feet to the +unknown gulch below. + +The wind was cold, and Haig felt that its strength was steadily +increasing, though it yet blew fitfully. He made the second level +without mishap, but was brought to a momentary standstill there by the +fiercer rush of wind on the higher terrace. It seemed strange, at +first thought, that the wind had not blown away the vapors that now +enveloped him; but he saw presently that it was not blowing across +the mountain, but rather in a circular, whirlwind motion that +gradually became more violent. The terrace he now crossed was as +smooth as a floor, and he found his way only by means of the crosses +carved in the rocks beneath his feet. Then the trail dropped +suddenly into a shallow trough; mounted to another field of +crumbled stones; and rose unevenly to a barrier that he remembered +with a pang of chagrin. This was what at the first glance would have +appeared to be a solid and insurmountable wall of rock, perhaps +fifteen feet in height, and stretching away to the very edge of the +plateau at his right, and to a wilderness of granite on the left. +But directly ahead of him the wall was cleft, and there was a +narrow pathway climbing up between two huge rocks that had been +carved by the elements into shapes bearing a fanciful resemblance to +human figures. These were the Twin Sisters. + +Here Haig had been caught by a storm that hurled him back defeated; +and he had, moreover, narrowly escaped a worse thing than mere defeat; +for the wind had carried him off the trail, and almost to the brink of +the chasm that yawned some hundred yards away. Now, remembering that +experience, he spurred Trixy forward to take the aperture in the wall +before the wind should suddenly become insupportable; and this time he +was more fortunate. The pony leaped and clambered up the slippery +path, and at the exit was caught by a blast that hurled and pinned +her, as if she had been no heavier than a butterfly, against the base +of the righthand towering figure. For some seconds neither horse nor +man was able to move from that fixed position, where the wind +flattened them against the rock. Then it swerved sharply, flung them +against the other Sister with such force that Haig's leg was stunned +and bruised, and finally released them with a shriek that sounded like +a cry of disappointed rage. Trixy plunged forward with a snort, and +Haig saw that the trail was again plain across another field of +scattered stones. + +Now, thrilled by this victory, he urged the pony onward at all +possible speed toward the worst of all the perils of the mountain. The +stone field was succeeded by a series of mounds and hollows, and this +by a second slippery floor; and then he mounted the ridge that +terminated in the Devil's Chair. Here was the highest point attained +by the trail: a flat rock measuring perhaps twenty yards one way, and +a little less the other, lifted high above the surrounding slopes, and +having (hence its name) a huge back formed by the abrupt termination +of the ridge. From the chair the rock dipped in a kind of hollow like +a chute, worn smooth by the winds and rains; and everything that ever +fell into that chute was swallowed by the chasm of unplumbed and +unestimated depth. Sometimes the wind blew up through the chute across +the Devil's Chair; sometimes it blew down through it into the chasm. +It was blowing out when Parker reached the chair, and he was hurled +back down, the slope three times before he acknowledged his defeat; it +was blowing in when the three members of the English party were sucked +down into the chasm. + +Haig could have cried aloud the joy that ran through him, when, having +spurred Trixy up the steep ascent to a footing on the Devil's Chair, +he found that almost a perfect calm reigned there, due to some sudden +shift in the currents of the air. + +"Quick, Trixy! On!" he cried. + +The horse bounded across the platform, slid and stumbled down the +other side, and was up again, leaping forward, and a little to the +left, where there was firmer going over another field of stones. And +now at length, to Haig's relief, the trail bent sharply in toward the +middle of the plateau, and thus away from the peril of the chasms. + +But his elation was short-lived. If Thunder Mountain had admitted him +between the Twin Sisters, and spared him at the Devil's Chair, it was +only to hurl upon him its accumulated fury farther on. Engrossed in +the endless difficulties of the trail, he had not observed the +stealthy and insidious change that was taking place in the atmosphere +until it had advanced far toward its climax. The un-looked for calm, +so opportune, was but a pause before an outburst of elemental rage. +The vapors lifted, and hung in still masses a few feet above the +earth. Haig picked his way along in a strange, weird, yellowish light, +in a stillness that was all the more impressive by contrast with the +recent howling and hammering of the wind. There was not a faintest +puff of air on his cheek, and not a sound except the click of Trixy's +feet among the stones, and his own hurried breathing. All else seemed +to have paused, expectant, waiting. + +It did not come as storms come in the valley, or on the plain, or +among the hills; not even as they come in the mountains. It did not +come from north, or east, or west, or south, or from any known +horizon; it had no sensible direction; it was there. Out of the +portentous hush (not into it) there came first a whisper, something +low and malevolent; then a singular moaning sound, incomparably dismal +and hollow and pervasive. Haig moved his head from side to side, +endeavoring to trace it--before, behind, above--he knew not where. The +moaning murmur grew, and still there was no perceptible movement in +the air; it rose whining up, up, up the scale until at last it was a +shrill, demoniacal shriek. And then, out of the darkening mists, it +leaped upon him. + +In this whirling, wicked, wondrous thing there was no orderly and +recognizable succession of phenomena, such as wind and lightning and +rain. These came all in one swoop, all in one frightful blend. It was +black, and it was bright. The lightning came not from the sky, +discharging its bolts to earth; it was on the very surface of the +plateau. It flamed and crackled on uplifted rocks; it ran hissing like +fiery serpents among the scattered stones; it buzzed and exploded in +the very face of Haig, and under the pony's belly. If he had been +caught in a burning storehouse of fireworks--rockets, Roman candles, +pinwheels, and all the ingenious products of the pyrotechnician--the +experience might have been like this, only a thousand times less +terrifying. He dodged and ducked, and threw up his hands to shield his +face, expecting instantly that one of those exploding things would +make an end of him. + +Then there were other horrors to be endured. The din became +incessant. Simultaneous with the hiss and crackle and crack of the +lightning there was a continuous deafening detonation in the air +above him, crash on crash and roar on roar. The terrors of the +first few seconds had been chiefly those felt and heard. But the +wind had steadily increased in violence. It did not blow against him, +bowling him over, but whirled around him with a speed that was every +instant accelerated. He felt that he had no weight. He seemed +about to be lifted into the vortex of the storm, to be flung far +out into space. + +"Down, girl! Down!" he tried to shout. + +But there was no sound from his lips. He felt the pony stiffening +under him, bracing herself stiff-legged on the stones; and he knew +that she shared his fear. And all this time the rain beat down upon +him, in lead-like sheets, with intermittent bombardments of +hailstones. It occurred to him to wonder dully which would win--the +wind that sought to whirl him up into the sky, or the rain that was +for beating him to earth, or the lightning that would burn him to +cinders. Then thought left him, and his last impression was of being +torn limb from limb, and atom from atom, in excruciating pain. + +He was roused at length to the consciousness of having been lifted and +hurled; and found himself prostrate on the ground, face downward, with +the rain flooding him. Trixy lay at his side, flat like himself, her +head stretched out among the stones. They seemed to lie in a vacuum, +in the very hollow of the storm. Around them the clatter, the clang +and the uproar were even more terrifying than before because they were +now separated from these noises, no longer a part of them. All was +blackness, shot through with fire. Haig was no more tortured in his +body, except for the sense of being suffocated. He seemed to inhale +raw ozone; the air fairly stank with the odors of decomposition; the +saliva in his mouth had a peculiar pungent and disagreeable taste. He +gasped and fought for breath. + +Such reason as was left to him told him that this was the end of all. +At any instant something would flash out of that wall of blackness, +and destroy him with a blow. His spirit rose exultantly to meet and +welcome it; he rejoiced in such a death, slain by the elements, on the +roof of the world, alone, unseen; it was a glorious exit, the finish +he had sought for years on years, his heart's desire. Triumphant and +defiant, he tried to roar back at the thunder, to outscream the wind, +to face the lightning with undimmed eyes. + +There came a blinding flash, exceeding in brightness anything he had +yet experienced. But with it, to his amazement, there emerged from the +blackness a vision that brought life back to him with a shocking +thrill. For there, not ten paces distant, was Sunnysides. Only for an +instant; and then all was again obscure. He must have been mistaken. +It was only a figment of fancy, a creation of his tortured brain, a +phenomenon associated with his passing from life to death. And yet he +waited, staring into the smothering void. + +Another flash of fire across the black--and Sunnysides! But now the +lightning, as if directed by some intelligence, became again +continuous, its flashes joined in one spouting flame. And in the very +midst of it stood the outlaw in his familiar attitude, with one +forefoot slightly raised, his head high, his nostrils distended, his +dark eyes filled with fire. There had never been anything so bright +and beautiful. His golden hide gleamed with planetary splendor, like +the mythical horses of the sun. This was The Horse, the golden +epiphany of the brute, the answer to all of Haig's fears and +resolutions. And in the very hour of his exit-- + +Rage rose again within him. Instinctively, for he was scarce capable +of thought, he tried to reach his revolver. But his arms were leaden. +His fingers touched the butt of the weapon, and stopped as if +paralyzed. The horse wavered and danced before his eyes; there was a +culminating detonation; he felt a terrific blow on his head. And he +knew no more. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE NARROW PASSAGE + + +Light came with unutterable mystery. Yet Haig lay for a moment +waiting, mistrustful of the peace that encompassed him. Then he +cautiously raised his head, and looked. Trixy stood near him, panting +and wild-eyed. The whole surface of the plateau was glistening wet; a +cold breeze poured over him, without violence; and the sky above him +was as innocent and bright as a baby's smile. + +Where, then, was the storm? He moved his head painfully, and searched +the horizon; and yonder, around the icy parapets of Silver Tip, with +roll on roll of reverberations in its wake, the black storm was in +full flight. His eyes followed it with a curious and exaggerated +interest; for he had seen its birth, and tested its power, and it had +given him a new experience. + +Presently he tried to rise, and found that his limbs were numb. His +right arm ached to the tips of his fingers. His head swam, and he had +difficulty in arranging his impressions in any sort of orderly +succession, especially those in which Sunnysides participated. + +"I wonder how much of it really happened!" he mused. + +Unexpectedly his eyes lighted on his revolver, where it lay among the +stones at his side. Ah! It had burned his fingers. He picked it up, +and examined it curiously. But none of the cartridges had been +exploded. The gun, then, had been knocked out of his hand before he +could lift and aim it; and the storm had taunted him with Sunnysides, +and cheated him. No matter! The game was not yet up. + +He struggled to his feet, and stretched himself, and pounded his +chest, which ached from his heavy breathing. Then his eyes sought the +trail ahead, scanning the level spaces and the heaped-up masses of +granite; and an instant later a cry escaped his lips. For there, +perhaps half a mile away, and mounting rapidly a gray ridge of rock, +his body outlined against the blue sky, was Sunnysides. It had been no +vision, then, no figment of his tortured brain. But where had the +horse been all this time, to have been caught in the same storm with +his pursuer, despite his half-hour start, his greater speed, and the +night that came between them? True, there had been a storm in the +night; that might have delayed, but it should not have kept him. True, +too, he might have lost the trail, and wandered over the plateau; but +Haig could not have missed him, if he had been anywhere in sight +before the storm revealed him. No, nothing could explain it; and there +remained only one hypothesis, which was untenable, preposterous and +mad. And yet it fascinated and held him. He had once said jocularly +that Sunnysides was not a real horse at all; that he was a demon--a +spirit. Well, it was a real horse, right enough, that had crushed him, +and thrown him again, and broken Bill Craven's leg, and fled; and that +was a real horse yonder, outlined against the sky. If some devilish +instinct in the brute, or some agent of Destiny, or mere fling of +chance had held him on the plateau to tantalize and lead on his +pursuer-- + +"Dreaming again!" Haig muttered, with a wry smile, and yet with a +vague uneasiness that he could not put down. + +But in another instant he had leaped to his horse, tested the cinches +with trembling fingers, climbed stiffly into the saddle, and dug the +spurs into Trixy's flanks. When he looked again toward the ridge, the +outlaw had disappeared; but there was no ignis-fatuus trick in that; +and the horse would be seen again when Haig too had topped the rise. +For the trail was now leading him in a relatively straight line toward +the exact spot where Sunnysides had vanished; and more assuring than +all else, a very material and comforting proof that this was a real +horse he followed, was the discovery he made halfway up the slope. +There, among the stones, lay the outlaw's saddle. Clearly the runaway +had only just now been able to shake it off, and its condition, +bruised and cut and dirty, showed that Sunnysides had been put to some +trouble to be rid of it, having doubtless rolled over and over on it +in his efforts to be free. And there, too, was a plausible explanation +of the fact that Sunnysides was not now far on the trail. + +From the top of the ridge, Haig saw the outlaw picking his way through +a wilderness of rocks that had the grewsome aspect of a cemetery--the +graveyard of the gods. Following through this depressing scene, he +lost sight of Sunnysides, and on emerging upon another floor-like +expanse of solid stone he received a surprise that caused him to rein +up Trixy with a jerk. The quarry was nowhere in sight, though Haig's +position gave him a sweeping view of the flat ahead of him, even to +the edge of the summit, now scarcely three quarters of a mile away. +There was no possibility that the horse could have traversed that +distance in the time Haig was passing through the "cemetery;" neither +was there any place on that part of the plateau where it could be +concealed. + +The trail itself solved the mystery. It did not lead straight on, as +Haig had imagined; and he experienced some difficulty in finding it on +the smooth floor, from which the elements had all but obliterated the +crosses made by the pioneers. Then his astonishment was great to find +that it turned at a sharp angle to the left, dropped sheer over the +edge of the flat rock, coiled down a slope littered with débris to +another field of loose stones, and in a quarter of a mile brought up +at the brink of a cliff. Sunnysides, then, had crossed the summit, and +was descending to whatever lay below. + +In ten minutes Haig himself was at the margin of the chasm; for little +wider than a chasm was that deep and narrow gulch, far up the side of +Thunder Mountain, into which he now looked in wonderment and +perplexity. A thousand feet or more below him lay a tiny patch of +meadow of a brilliant green, with a thread of water sparkling through +it, and on all sides, excepting that nearest him, black forests +encompassed it, and mounted dense to the timber line save where, at +his right, the stream ran down through its gorge. There, evidently, +would go the trail also, dropping into the Black Lake country, of evil +reputation. + +But where now was the trail? He dismounted, and leaned over the edge +of the precipice; and there he discovered that he had missed the +exact point of departure by some fifteen yards, and that at this +distance to his left there was a break in the sharp brink, where the +trail fell off precipitately to a heap of broken stone and sand. The +cliff had been shattered in some convulsion of nature, or loosened and +disintegrated by the elements, and enormous masses of it had fallen +into the gulch. These masses appeared to be in a state of instability, +and it was not clear to Haig, from where he lay, how a trail could +ever have been picked out among those jutting rocks and slides of +débris, or how, once found, it could have remained intact on that +shifting foundation. Was it possible that any living thing had ever +made its way down (much less _up_) that steep and treacherous rubble +heap? + +He was studying it incredulously, when Sunnysides suddenly resolved +all doubts. From behind a projecting rock the horse came out on one of +the many rough ledges that had been formed by lateral cleavage of the +cliff in its fall. Hesitating a moment there, he plunged down a short +declivity, and landed sprawling on another shelf perhaps twenty feet +lower down, and somewhat to the right of the first, where he once more +vanished from Haig's sight. + +"All right!" cried Haig. "If you can do that we can. Eh, Trixy?" + +He mounted quickly, urged the reluctant mare to the break in the edge +of the cliff, and forced her over. For some thirty feet the trail went +down the face of the precipice, much like a fire escape on the wall of +a tenement house, barely wide enough to accommodate horse and +rider,--so narrow, indeed, that Haig's left leg was scraped and +bruised by hard contact with the stone. At the bottom of this incline, +his amazement was great at finding a solid platform of rock, on which, +he was able easily to turn and go down another incline underneath the +first. Plainly all this was not the result of accident; the hands of +men had been busy here; and picks and shovels had supplemented the +work of nature. But below the next platform there certainly had been a +secondary slide of rock, for the trail was nowhere discernible, though +it should evidently have slipped down, at a greater angle from the +cliff than before, to a third turning point on a shelf some forty feet +away to the left. Here the débris was loose and fine, and with a +little urging Trixy was induced to take the descent, carrying +quantities of sand and stones with her as she slid and sprawled safely +to the next goal. + +Thus they went, sometimes finding the trail plain over solid rock and +hard-packed débris, sometimes slipping and scrambling among stones and +sand, but always drawing nearer and nearer in a zigzag course, now +easy and then difficult, to the green vale below. There were moments +when Trixy was on her knees, moments when she was on her haunches, +moments when she stood swaying above the pit, and moments when all +traces of the trail had vanished. But somewhere below was Sunnysides. + +Far down the declivity, so near the valley that Haig was able to look +across into the tops of the tallest pines, they came to what appeared +to be the last of the rocky ledges. Having for some minutes seen +nothing of the outlaw, Haig supposed that the runaway had already +reached the meadow, and was by now on the trail through the forest. +But just as Trixy's shod hoofs struck the platform with a clatter, +Haig caught sight of Sunnysides far out on the narrow shelf. He was +trotting briskly along, for the shelf was smooth and level. But, on a +sudden he stopped, stood a moment with his head thrust forward and +down, and then turned cautiously around, his four feet bunched +together on the narrow footing. + +"What's up now?" ejaculated Haig. + +And then he saw it. Twice before he had noted where a similar error +might have been made, on other ledges farther up; and he himself had +avoided them only by carefully studying the aspect of the declivity +below him. Sunnysides had undoubtedly lost time through such mistakes; +and now he was trapped. At the point where he stood, the shelf ended +abruptly "in the air"; and between him and the exit at the other end +of the platform was Haig. The trail had come down to about the middle +of this platform, which was like an unrailed balcony, scarce three +feet in width, with a high wall of rock on one side, and on the other +a straight drop of twenty feet to a veritable chute of stones that +terminated in a widespread litter of débris on the meadow. + +"Caught like a rat!" cried Haig. "I've got you now!" + +But what could he do with him? His rope was useless on that meager +footing, where there was barely room for his horse to stand, much less +for Haig to swing a noose. And worse: if Sunnysides was trapped, so +was his enemy; for the horse was already, through fright or +belligerency, moving slowly toward Haig. In a flash it was clear to +Haig that the outlaw meant to have it out with him then and there; and +that there would be no time to turn Trixy, and find the outlet into +the valley. + +"It's too bad, but--" + +He drew his revolver, and waited. There was yet a chance, he thought, +or hoped, that the horse would halt, and postpone the issue. He did +not want to kill him; he had not come across Thunder Mountain to kill +him; he had come to take him back to Paradise Park. And so he +waited--fatally. The outlaw came slowly until half the space between +him and Haig had been covered. Then, at a distance of perhaps a +hundred feet, when no choice was left to him, Haig swung up his gun, +and fired. At that very instant, Sunnysides uttered a savage cry, a +shrill neigh ending in a scream; and, charged at the horse and rider +in his path. + +Haig fired again, and missed; threw himself forward on Trixy's neck, +jerked the pony's head in toward the wall, and fired again; and +missed. He tried to shoot once more, into the very face of the +oncoming brute, but too late. There was a vision of flaming black eyes +and white teeth, in a yellow blur; and then a tremendous impact, a +crash. Trixy was flung back on her haunches, with one hind leg over +the edge of the shelf, Haig barely hanging in the saddle. The outlaw +leaped back, and lunged again; thrust himself between Trixy and the +wall; toppled pony and rider off into the void; and passed on, with a +shriek of triumphant rage. + +Haig and Trixy turned in the air, struck the chute of stones and sand, +and rolled over and over as they went down in a flying slide of +débris. But Haig did not know that, for his head struck a stone at the +first contact with the chute. + + * * * * * + +Sentience returned to him through mists of pain. He lay in a twisted +heap on a patch of grass, surrounded by the scattered detritus of the +cliff. At first he could not remember, and could not see. His head +rang with pain, and his eyes were filled with dust, and with something +wet. He managed presently to lift an arm and wipe his eyes with his +hand; and saw dimly that the hand was covered with blood. His eyes +then filled again; and he swept his sleeves across them and his +forehead. That was better. Blinking, and wiping his face again and +again, he looked dully around him until memory came back, and brought +recognition of his plight. + +He tried to sit up, but sank down quickly with a groan. One leg was +bent almost double under the other, and would not move. This fact +struck him at first as very queer--an inexplicable phenomenon. Then he +tried it again. His left leg moved at his will, and that encouraged +him. His right hip and part of the thigh too moved, but the leg below +lay loose and dead. + +The blood was in his eyes again. It exasperated him; he could do +nothing unless he were able to see. He wiped his face again with his +sleeve, then put his hand to his head, and winced a little as the +fingers touched a gash just above the left temple, from which the +blood still flowed. By turning his head he found that the blood ran +down away from his eyes instead of into them. The new position also +gave him a view of several things that held his attention. + +First there was the clutter of stones around him. Then his eyes swept +upward to the ledge whence he had come rolling down--how far? He +calculated the distance curiously. Eighty feet--a hundred, surely. How +did he come to be still alive? he wondered. And Trixy! Where was she. + +Once more he tackled the problem of sitting up, and it became easier +now in his full understanding of his condition. By ignoring the dead +leg entirely, since it was of no further use to him, he contrived to +raise himself with his hands on the ground behind him for support. +Then with a jerk that brought a cry of pain, he sat erect, swaying but +resolute. At this instant he heard a soft whinny behind him. Twisting +himself around, he saw Trixy lying some twenty feet away, with her +forelegs doubled up beneath her, and her head lifted and pointed +toward him. He studied the little mare a moment. + +"Trixy! Get up!" he commanded suspiciously. + +She lifted her head higher, made a desperate effort to rise, sank +back, and whinnied piteously. + +"So! Yours too, eh! Nice fix, Trixy!" + +He surveyed the scene. They were in a bright green meadow about two +hundred yards in width and perhaps half a mile in length. Across the +meadow from where he lay the black forest mounted toward the sky. At +one end the vale narrowed into a mere ravine, which vanished upward in +deep woods; at the other it widened to the forest, and by the way the +pine-masses came down to this spot from both sides he knew that there +the trail ran down the mountain toward the Black Lake country. The +vale was very still under the bright blue sky; there was just a murmur +in the forest; and no sound of birds came to his ears. + +"A beautiful site--for a graveyard!" he said aloud, and smiled. + +The blood still trickled into his eyes, and annoyed him greatly. It +must be stopped, or he could do nothing that needed to be done. In an +inside pocket of his coat he found a handkerchief, which he bound +around his head, after he had wiped his face once more. The pain in +his head had subsided to a dull throbbing, which did not matter. +But-- + +"God! I'm thirsty!" he muttered. + +He looked again across the meadow. The thread of water that he had +seen from the top of the cliff was a considerable brook that ran +silently through about the middle of the green. He measured the +distance,--fifty or sixty yards, maybe seventy, or more. He could do +it, by dragging himself along the ground, he thought. But was it worth +the effort, and the pain? It would hurt him like the devil--that +broken leg. Never did like pain; would probably howl; and that would +not be nice, even with no creature but Trixy to hear him. No; he would +stay where he was. Then suddenly he thought of Pete's whisky, and +thrust his hand into his pocket, only to encounter fragments of +glass. + +"That's a lesson," he thought grimly. "Never carry whisky in glass +bottles." + +And now his roving eyes lighted once more on Trixy. No good letting +her suffer. He would send her away first. On the thought, his hand +went back to the holster at his hip; and stayed there, while his +heart stood still, and a chill went over him, and thought ceased. The +holster was empty. + +After a while he was able to think about it. One of two things would +happen to him. There were, very probably, mountain lions in those +forests. But they were not the worst thing he faced. To be eaten were +perhaps preferable to dying little by little, of hunger and thirst. He +had been near starvation, twice in his life; and once he had been +thirsty,--that is to say, _thirsty_,--and God save him from dying of +thirst! But wait! He hesitated; then held his breath; and in a total +suspension of thought slowly reached his hand down into a side pocket +of his trousers. And then he almost yelled aloud for joy. His +pocketknife was there! + +Meanwhile--Trixy. It was cruel not to be able to end her suffering. +What had become of the gun? It was in his hand when he toppled over +the edge of the platform, and must have fallen with him. So it could +not be far away, though perhaps buried out of sight. He began +patiently to inspect every square foot of the ground around him, as +far as he could trust his eyes to see clearly, separating the space +into imaginary segments of a circle, and scrutinizing each of them +until he had set apart every tuft of grass from every other tuft, and +every stone from its neighbors. Minute after minute, with dogged +perseverance, he kept himself at this exhausting task until the sweat +was rolling down, his face, and his eyes burned deep in his head. Then +suddenly something leaped inside of him,--some nerve that was quicker +than thought in its response to vision. + +"Ah!" + +The gun lay against a stone, its muzzle upward, at a distance of about +forty feet, beyond and somewhat to the left of Trixy. It would take +some crawling; and that would hurt. But when he had fixed the gun's +position in his mind, so that he might not miss it, he set his teeth +together, and started. + +No great distance, after all, is forty feet. That is to say, no great +distance after you've covered it. And the pain did not matter now. He +lay on the ground again, flattened out, panting and gazing up at the +blue sky. The sweat stood in big cold drops on his face; and he +trembled as if stricken with ague. He could not shoot in that +condition; he must rest, and wait. But the thirst was torture now. + +After a time, he turned himself half around in order to face Trixy, +and rested his right elbow on the ground, with the gun up in the air. + +"Good-by, Trixy!" he said softly. + +But wait! How many shots left? He examined the revolver. Two! For an +instant he was stricken again with dread. Then his left hand felt for +the belt at his waist; and he laughed nervously. What a state he was +in! There were cartridges to burn! + +The gun came slowly down to an aim, then waved in his hand as he +pulled the trigger. + +"Hell!" he muttered. + +He tried again, pulling himself together, and gritting his teeth. The +second report rang out, and echoed high among the rocks. The mare's +head fell, her body quivered, one hind foot kicked out; and she was +gone. + +Oh, yes! He could hit good horses! But not Sunnysides. + +He ejected the exploded cartridges, and filled the chambers with fresh +ones; then lay back and rested again, the gun still clutched in his +hand. And why did he wait? To get strength, for one thing. He wanted +to sit up to do it, since he could not stand. And then--there was +another trouble. Four times before he had tried to do it, and +something had happened,--something different and utterly unexpected +each time had checked him. It had not so much mattered then, because +he could afford to wait. But now-- + +He drew upon the last of his reserves of strength, and sat up--too +suddenly. An excruciating pain shot through his injured leg, and +radiated like flame through every nerve and tissue of his body. The +revolver, half lifted, fell from his fingers. Swaying, he groped for +it, clutched it again, and frantically raised it to his head. And when +he felt the hard muzzle just above his ear, he pulled the trigger. And +so the third report went ringing through the quiet valley, and Philip +Haig sank backward on the greensward, and lay still. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE MIRACLE + + +Between two storms, the peace that lay upon the seared and battered +head of Thunder Mountain, like the peace that comes to a sufferer +between paroxysms of pain, was of a kind unknown to lower levels. In +all the range of natural phenomena, in all the gamut of sensation, +there is nothing else at once so beautiful, inspiring, and appalling +as utter silence; and nothing else so rare. To the sea, the desert, +and the peak it is given in few and perfect hours; but neither to the +desert nor to the sea is it given in such transcendency as to the +peak. And on no peak could silence ever have seemed so like a miracle +as on the flat top of Thunder Mountain between two storms. + +It were hazardous to say how far Marion was conscious of the +beautiful, inspiring, and appalling nature of that silence. She was +too deeply intent upon her purpose to be conscious of much besides the +material difficulties in her path. She knew that on the gray-black +surface of the mountain nothing stirred; that the winds were still; +that no murmur of forest or ripple of water or soft pulsation of a +living world was there. It was a dead place, dead these many ages; and +all its associations in her mind were those of death and the living +terror of death. But she was not afraid. True, she was beset by fears, +but they only hovered over her, brushing her face with their black +wings. True also, her eyes roved wide, as if at any instant something +unknown and dreadful would come upon her out of that blue sky, from +behind the next rock barrier, or up from the mountain's ugly heart +itself. But these were superficial fears, and in her heart she was not +afraid. + +From the moment that she emerged upon the first terrace, where Haig +had stood some hours before, she knew that she would not go back until +(and unless) she found him. That had been her purpose from the +beginning, from the time she ran down the hill above Huntington's, +with Smythe following in alarm; but it had been hidden from her until, +in the exaltation that ensued upon the finding of the ashes of Haig's +fire, she drove her pony up the last ascent, and knew that if the +mountain had claimed Philip it must claim her too. + +But this thought was, in a sense, as superficial as her fears; for in +her soul there lived a perfect faith. Through all her grief and +jealousy and anger and despair she had never entirely lost the pure +light of her star. She never doubted deeply that her love would +triumph, even when reason told her that it had already failed; and the +very words with which she had consented to leave the Park by the last +stage were hollow, though they contained a prayer. She had prayed for +a miracle; and the miracle had happened. Why should she be afraid? + +So she was not surprised when the Twin Sisters welcomed her without so +much as a gentle puff of wind upon her cheek; when the Devil's Chair, +though she held her breath at sight of what lay below, was scarce more +difficult than the ridge in Paradise Park; and when the central +waste, where the storm had leaped on Haig, held no evil in store for +her. The only obstacles encountered were those presented by the trail +itself; and these, as Smythe had told her, though by no means trivial, +were not insurmountable to one with a clear eye and steady nerves. It +was never the trail itself that was deadly; it was the wind that would +blow her into a chasm, the mist that would decoy her from the path, +and the storm that would beat her down among the stones. But there was +no wind, no mist, no storm; and if that was not a miracle-- + +Several times, to be sure, she missed the trail: once in the second +field of loose stones, before she had become accustomed to the signs; +once on a wide floor of solid rock, where Tuesday slipped and fell, +and she rose a little stunned, and in a brief confusion; and once, the +most alarming of all, when she was for half an hour lost in that +granite wilderness that to Haig had suggested a cemetery of the gods. +But faith sustained her, and her purpose stood in the stead of courage +that might have faltered and even failed. The one moment when +something like despair struck at her heart was that when she found the +bruised and dirty saddle cast aside by the runaway, and thought at +first that it was Philip's; and the one moment of real terror was that +in which, on the summit of the last ridge, she looked back and saw +that dark gray vapors were surging up out of the chasm below the +Devil's Chair. + +It chanced that in following the trail from the sharp turn on the last +rock floor to the brink of the cliff (the last pyramid stands some +fifty yards back from it), Marion arrived at about the same distance +to the left of the drop-off as Haig had brought up at the right of +it. From this point even less of the meadow was visible than Haig had +seen at the first view, and the mass of fallen and tumbled granite +appeared even more formidable. Her immediate sensation was of tragic +despair, as the evidence of her eyes for one instant overwhelmed her +faith. But where was Philip? And Sunnysides? + +Then a suspicion flashed into her mind. Perhaps she had missed the +trail,--the real trail. She could not have been mistaken in the signs; +there was the last pyramid in plain view still from where she stood. +But it was not unlikely that there was another trail from the sharp +turn where she had been confused for a moment, another exit made +necessary by the disruption of the cliff. She paused uncertainly, +looking now at the great heap of stone below her,--a thousand feet of +jagged rock and sliding sand,--and now back at the toilsome way she +had come. And then her eyes were caught by something that held her +spellbound with horror. Up to the rocky skyline from beyond the +barrier she had lately crossed there swept a tumbling mist, as +gray-black as the rock itself; and an instant after she felt a +stinging blow of wind on her cheek, and heard a low whisper in the air +around her. + +She was roused by a sound that brought her up rigid and alert in the +saddle. What was that? A faint report, as of a gun--from somewhere. +She listened, turning her head slowly and cautiously, and holding her +breath. A long time, it seemed to her, she listened; and heard only +that warning whisper of the wind across the flat. But there! Another! +It came up faintly from below, expiring at the very edge of the +precipice. She peered guardedly down into the chasm, and saw nothing +but the vast pile of débris, and a bit of green meadow over against +the edge of the black forest. But it was a gun! She began now to +examine the edge of the cliff. To her left it fell sheer away hundreds +of feet to the lower masses of fallen stone; and there was no trail on +that side. Dismounting, she led her horse slowly along the brink at +her right; and so came at length to the spot where the trail dropped +to the first incline. It seemed incredible; but then, even as the word +framed itself in her mind, her heart bounded up into her throat. +There--there--under her eyes were hoofprints, the print of steel shoes +in the sand; and they went down, down, down. And, as if to remove the +last of doubt and hesitancy, there came wavering up from below a third +thin report, a little more distinct than the others, and undeniable. + +She lifted her face toward the sky, and pressed her hands upon her +breast. + +"God help us! God help us--both!" she murmured. + +Then she remounted Tuesday, and forced him over the edge of the +cliff. + + * * * * * + +Haig lay on his back, his head against the stone by which he had +recovered the coveted revolver. A handkerchief dyed red and blackened +with powder stains lay against one cheek. His right hand still +clutched the revolver. + +He did not move, and she thought him dead. Then, through the blackness +that enveloped her, she dully and slowly comprehended that his eyes +were closed, not staring up at her. She knelt swiftly, and pressed her +head to his breast; and then leaped to her feet with a wild outcry. + +Tuesday stood a few yards away, with tail outstretched and nostrils +distended, gazing affrightedly at the body of Trixy lying in her +wretched heap. Marion ran to the saddle, and tore at the thongs that +held her bundle; jerked it loose, and bore it quickly to Haig's side; +and in a few seconds had placed the mouth of her whisky flask between +Haig's lips, and let a little of the liquid trickle down his throat. +But there was no response, and she stood up again, looking for water. +The brook that had seemed so far away from Haig was at no distance for +her flying feet; and she was back on the run with her sombrero filled. +Dashing the water into Philip's face, she was off again for more. With +this she bathed his face and neck and wrists; and then set herself to +slapping the palms of his hands with her own. + +Still there was no response. But when she pressed her head to his +breast once more she was assured that she had not been mistaken; his +heart was beating feebly--but beating. A second time she put the +whisky flask to his lips; and returned to the limp hands, rubbing +them, slapping them until her own burned and ached. + +Hours it seemed, and ages flowing away into eternity. The sky was +darkening, and from the top of Thunder Mountain came a muffled roar +that was echoed back and forth across the valley. She looked up at the +towering cliff, and trembled. And then, with the last fading +reverberation, there came another sound that brought her leaning down +close to Philip's face. Was it a sigh, or only-- + +"Philip! Philip! Philip!" she called, softly at first, then in a cry +that rang across the meadow. + +At last a quiver went through the limp figure; the eyes were opened, +only to be quickly closed again, as if the light had hurt them. She +called to him again, in pleading accents. The eyelids fluttered, and +he looked up into the face of the girl bending over him. It was a +puzzled, uncomprehending look. And thereupon his lips moved. + +"Yes, Philip! What is it?" + +"I don't understand," he whispered. + +"It's Marion!" she cried. "Don't you know me?" + +"But--where?" + +"I don't know. Thunder Mountain." + +"Yes, I know that!" he said, with a note of impatience. "Sunnysides +and--all that. But--you?" + +"I followed, and found you." + +A weak smile flickered on his lips. She saw that he did not believe +her. + +"Look! Look!" she cried. "It's Marion. And yonder--is Tuesday." + +He moved his head a little, and stared at the pony still standing +fascinated and terrified by the stillness of poor Trixy. + +"It's--impossible!" he muttered. "You couldn't--" + +He made an effort to look up at the cliff down, which he had come. + +"But it's quite true, Philip. I'm here." + +But she saw that he was still groping in the dark. He lifted his right +hand, and touched his head, while the expression of perplexity grew +rather than lessened on his face. She saw that there was not only a +gash in the left temple, but a furrow on the right side of his head, a +swollen red streak where the hair had been burned away. And the black +stains on the handkerchief, and the revolver clutched in his hand. + +"Philip!" she said softly, reproachfully. + +"I don't understand!" he reiterated, and closed his eyes. + +She studied him, and the place where he lay, and the dead pony; the +two wounds in his head, the bloody handkerchief--And it was only +partly clear to her. He had fallen, and been hurt; but Philip, as she +knew him, would have made nothing of that cut on his temple. Why, +then, had he abandoned the pursuit, and tried to kill himself? + +A groan escaped him. + +"What is it, Philip?" she asked. + +"You're hurting me!" he answered, opening his eyes again. + +"Hurting you?" she exclaimed. "No! Where?" + +"My leg's broken." + +With a sharp cry she moved away from him, and saw that in her +eagerness she had pressed against his right leg. For just a moment she +was so concerned with the pain she had caused him that she did not +realize the full significance of his answer. Then it came to her with +a shock. She looked slowly around her: at the black forest on three +sides of the little meadow; at the cliff on the other; at the terrible +trail down which she had come, she scarce knew how; and at the storm +clouds on Thunder Mountain. + +He saw the thought in her face. + +"You see, it's no use!" he said. "With a broken leg." + +She met his eyes with a clear and steady gaze; and smiled. And that +look he could not read. + +"Now, then, Philip!" she said at length, rising quietly to her feet. +"I'll go to work." + +"To work?" he repeated. + +"Of course!" she replied, with brave lightness. "There's a lot to do. +First, there's your leg." + +"Yes, it's broken," he answered sardonically. + +"We'll mend it. And the cut on your head needs to be dressed. And I'm +dreadfully hungry, and--" + +She stopped, and the smile fled from her face, and the strength ran +from her limbs. + +"I told you. It's no use," said Haig. + +But she had one resource of courage of which he was unaware: her +faith. + +"Well," she answered stoutly, "I've enough in my bundle for one meal +anyhow. After that--who knows?" + +"Will you give me a drink of water, please?" + +She stooped quickly for her hat, the only vessel she had. + +"Look in the roll on my saddle," he said. "Murray put some things +there." + +She glanced around uncertainly; then understood. The saddle was on +Trixy still. But Trixy was dead, and she did not like the idea of +touching her. She hesitated just the length of time required for an +unpleasant smile to twist Haig's lips. She saw it, and her face +flamed with shame. A fine start she was making! And it was only a dead +horse! She walked resolutely to the prostrate body, hurriedly untied +the roll of blankets, and returned running. + +"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried, as she unrolled the bundle. "A cup! A pan! +And bacon and bread! And matches." + +"Murray," said Haig. + +"Yes, I know. Mrs. Murray told me, but I'd forgotten." + +She ran to the stream, and brought him a cupful of water; and another; +and while he drank the second, she picked up his revolver, and carried +it to a stone fully as far away as it had been when he crawled for it. +He was on the point of calling her back, but thought better of it; to +have done that would only have confirmed her suspicions. + +"Now then, sir!" she began. "Your leg." + +"What about it?" + +"We've got to set it." + +"That's absurd!" + +"Why is it absurd?" + +"You can't do it, in the first place." + +"But I can. I've seen my father do it." + +"It won't heal--in the fix we're in." + +"We'll do our best," she rejoined bravely. + +"Listen!" he said, with some sternness. "If it should knit, which I +doubt, it will take six weeks or two months before I can use it. Do +you know what will happen before two months--before one month--before +two weeks, even?" + +She only looked at him questioningly. + +"Snow!" he said shortly. + +She could find no answer, unless it were an answer that she dared not +give him--yet. + +"Well, then!" he said, with an air of finality. "You can't start +to-night, of course. It's too late, and there's a storm going up there +besides. But to-morrow morning--" He looked up at the cliff and +frowned. "Perhaps Tuesday can make it. If he balks, you've got to do +it on foot. The mountain let you pass once. Maybe it will spare you +again. Maybe! God knows! But it's your only chance. I'm done for, and +can't help you. It's sure death for you to stay here. It's sure death +to try the trail into the Black Lake country. You have just one +chance. You've got to take it to-morrow morning. And God help you for +being such a fool!" + +She heard him through, and smiled; and he noted, for his own +information, that this smile of hers was getting on his nerves. What +did she mean by it? There was something very superior about it, though +very gentle and indulgent; and a thing or two she had said to him +before flashed back into his mind. Was she trying to mother him? The +thought made him angry. + +"Well?" he demanded. + +"Of course I'll not go!" she said simply. + +"You will go!" he retorted wrathfully. + +She knelt quickly at his side, and took one of his hands between both +her own. + +"Philip!" she said gently. "I know that--perhaps--it's a foolish +question to ask. You mustn't call me silly. But--do you believe in +miracles?" + +"Miracles be damned!" he blurted out. "I'll see--" + +She put her hand over his mouth. + +"Listen, Philip!" she went on. "I prayed for a miracle, and it has +happened. Perhaps there'll be another; who knows? We'll wait and see. +If nothing happens, why--Do you think I'm afraid?" + +He made no answer, and she needed none. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +HAIG'S ARGUMENT + + +When she had unsaddled Tuesday, and left him grazing near the "camp," +Marion set out with Murray's hatchet and knife to cut splints for +Haig's broken leg. Haig watched her run across the meadow, leap the +brook, and hurry on to a grove of quaking aspens at the edge of the +forest. Then he lay back to consider the logic of the situation, with +the following result, which appeared to him unanswerable: + +First. The girl yonder had already saved his life once, and was doing +her best, though against impossible odds, to save it again. Her motive +was one that need not be dwelt upon in this fatal crisis. The fact +remained that for him she was facing certain death, and he must do all +in his power to save her. That was the starting point from which all +reckonings must be made. + +Second. His own case was hopeless. Long before he should be able to +move from where he lay, the valley would be buried in snow to half the +height of those pines yonder. If she remained with him her case would +be hopeless too. Death would be inevitable for both of them: death +from starvation, from exposure, from cold. They had neither food, nor +proper clothing, nor shelter of any kind. The hardiest mountaineer +would not dream, of attempting to pass eight or nine months of winter +in a place like that, even with his two arms and two legs free. He, +with his broken leg, and she, a woman, would not survive an eighth or +a ninth of that period. + +Third. The chances of rescue. There would be no search for him, he +reflected with a grim smile. But for Marion, undoubtedly. To-morrow +morning, Marion not having returned, Murray would start out to find +her. There was not one chance in a thousand that, at this season, +there would be such another day as the one now ending, and ending in +storm. But suppose that Murray should make his way across the summit, +and find them. Murray could do nothing for a man with a broken leg at +the bottom of a gulch with a cliff on one side and miles on miles of +mountain forest on the other sides. As for Marion, if she would not go +at his, Haig's, command, she would certainly pay little heed to +Murray. So Murray would accomplish nothing. However, it would not come +to that. Murray would be driven back by the winds. He would ride down +to the Park and give the alarm. Search parties would be formed, and +they would assail the mountain. But fifty men would be no stronger +than one man on Thunder Mountain. It was just possible that some of +them might force their way across the flat between storms. But every +day that possibility, such as it was, would grow less. It would be +madness for the girl to wait. She had crossed the mountain once; she +knew the way; and if the winds should permit rescuers to come to her +they would permit her to go to them. It was her only chance, however +desperate; to remain where she was meant certain death. + +Fourth. She would not, it was quite clear, stir from his side as long +as he was alive. Therefore he must do quickly what he had tried to do +before. + +The idea was so familiar to him by now that it required no contemplation. +He raised his head, and looked toward the stone where his revolver lay; +and then toward the aspen grove where Marion labored. His gaze rested +on her for some minutes. It was too late for her to start to-night, +even if there were no storm on the mountain. And if he did it now she +would face a night of solitude and terror, perhaps would not live +through it. He would wait till morning; and when she should have gone +for wood, or water-- + +She came back presently with an armload of small limbs she had hacked +from the youngest trees. Her left hand bled where she had awkwardly +struck it with the hatchet; and there were tears in her eyes, which +she tried to conceal from him. He was sorry for her--and angry. It was +not his fault; he had done all he could, even to brutality. + +"Did you tell Huntington, or his wife, what you were going to do?" was +his first speech. + +"No. But I sent Mr. Smythe--he rode with me as far as Norton's--I sent +him back with a message that I was going to stop the night at +Murray's." + +"And the Murrays? What did you tell them?" + +"That I'd be back before night. But why do you ask?" + +"I'm thinking that Smythe is a fool, and Murray is a blockhead." + +"They did all they could to stop me," she answered quietly. + +She had begun to strip the bark and twigs from the green limbs; and he +watched her crude efforts for a moment. + +"I think I might manage that part of it," he said at length. "You must +build a fire." + +She started to obey him, but stopped short, and looked at him in +sudden fear and suspicion. + +"No, you can trust me with the knife," he said. "I promise." + +She handed the limbs and the knife to him; and he saw that her hands +trembled. + +"You'll find plenty of dead wood at the edge of the forest," he said. +"Don't venture far among the trees." + +The shadows were deepening along the other side of the meadow, and he +watched her a little anxiously while she made half a dozen trips for +dry limbs and small chunks of half-rotted logs. And now she felt a +curious thrill as she began to employ the knowledge she had gained on +her camping expedition. She had never dreamed that it would be so +useful to her! And she found new courage in thinking, while she +worked, how all her life she had been undergoing preparation, +training, education for this hour. She wished that she might run to +Philip and tell him all this--and of her faith! But he would not +understand her. + +Soon a fine fire was crackling on the grass, against one of the +largest stones that had fallen from the cliff. Then she brought a +small package from her bundle, and made a cup of hot chocolate for +Haig and another for herself. This, with a small slice of bread for +each of them, made their supper for that day; for such provisions as +they possessed must be treasured scrupulously. + +Haig had by this time finished trimming the aspen sticks; and by the +fading light of day and the red light of the fire they set to work to +mend the broken leg. Between them they knew something of surgery: she +by recollecting all that she had seen in her father's office, where +she had more than once helped Doctor Gaylord with his needles and +bandages; he by recalling experiences on battlefields, in lumber +camps, and in various rough places of the world. She brought his +blankets, and helped him to move until he lay flat on them, with his +head propped against a stone. Then the leg was stripped, and the +ordeal began. + +It was not the pain so much as the uselessness of it that exasperated +Haig; and he was tempted to drive her away from him, and have no more +of it. But this, he realized, would only have caused more arguments, +and tears, and protestations, and perhaps the revelation of his +purpose. So he endured it to satisfy and divert her. + +Luckily the fracture was a simple one; and with strips of linen for +which Marion sacrificed some of her scanty supply of clothing, and the +thin sticks of tough aspen wood, the leg was bound straight and firm. + +"If we only knew!" said Marion at last, leaning back to contemplate +her work. + +"Knew what?" he asked between his teeth. + +"If it's right!" + +Between pain and rage he could not answer her; and thinking that he +was near to a collapse, she ran for water and bathed his face, and +gave him a little of the precious whisky that remained in her flask. +After that he lay quiet, and she went to her preparations for the +night. + +The vale now lay in deep blackness, impenetrable walls of it beyond +the red circle of firelight. The cliff made a dim, dark line against +the blue-black sky; the forest on the other side a ragged tracery. The +stars were few, and far. A low breeze murmured among the pines, and +swept softly, but very cold, across the meadow. Marion began to feel +the chill; and having wrapped Philip's blanket tight around him, and +spread over him the leather coat she had found in his bundle, she +heaped more wood on the fire, and sat down before it, with her +blankets around her, and her rifle at her side, to watch and wait. + +She was very tired, but she dared not lie down to sleep. A long time +she sat there, glancing now and then at Haig, where he lay very still, +and oftener out into the blackness. But drowsiness gradually overcame +her, and her head sank forward on her uplifted knees. + +She was awakened by a terrifying cry that rang shivering across the +valley. She started to her feet, and listened. It must have been a +dream, she thought. No! There it was again--a cry that started low, +like a child's peevish wail, and ended in a piercing scream. She +grabbed up her rifle, and stood peering into the darkness. + +"Don't be afraid!" said the voice of Haig from the edge of the +firelight. "It's only a bobcat. He'll not come near the fire." + +"Thank you--Philip!" she answered. Then, with a nervous laugh: "It did +frighten me, though!" + +She stood a moment, still listening. But the cry came no more. + +"Aren't you sleeping?" she asked softly. + +"No." + +With trembling limbs, and eyes fixed on the darkness from whence had +come the scream, she stepped cautiously to the pile of wood, and threw +more limbs and bits of logs into the blaze. Then she seated herself +again, resolved that she would not fall asleep. But presently she +started to her feet in another panic at sight of a dark form moving in +the blackness. But it was only Tuesday, coming nearer to the fire, as +if he too had been alarmed by the wild beast's cry. She settled down +once more to her vigil, her rifle across her lap. + +In spite of her resolution, her head sank to her knees again, and she +was aroused at length by the cold. It bit through the blankets and +clothing into the flesh of her limbs; sharp shivers ran up and down +her back; and she was very miserable. Rising stiffly, she walked a +while before the fire until she stumbled from weariness; then sat down +again, and nodded, only to be waked by the frost gnawing at her flesh. +Again and again she slept and woke in accentuated misery. But finally +she saw, with unspeakable relief, that the stars were paling in their +blue-black vault. She turned toward Thunder Mountain, and watched the +dim line of the cliff sharpening against the whitening sky. Yet all +was blackness in the gulch, and it seemed a long time before a soft +gray light began to steal in upon the red light of the fire, and a new +crispness came into the air. She waited until she could make out the +forms of trees across the valley, shrouded in thin morning mist, +before she threw the last few sticks of wood on the dying fire, and +crept to the side of Haig, where she lay down close beside him, with +her blankets wrapped around her. There she fell into a heavy sleep, +and did not waken until the sun, rising above Thunder Mountain, shone +warm in her face. + +For some seconds she lay luxuriating in the warmth that seemed +incredible after that night of cold and terror. Then she moved softly, +raised herself on one elbow, and looked at Philip. He slept. His face +was haggard under his three days' growth of beard. She leaned over +him, and pressed her lips ever so lightly to his forehead. He did not +stir. + +Tuesday grazed a few yards away; the vale lay green and peaceful in +the sunlight; and from the pine woods, where that hideous cry had +lifted in the night, came now only the gentle murmur of the breeze in +the massed foliage. By contrast with the chill horror of the night, +the scene was positively exhilarating; and Marion rose to her work +with hope throbbing through every vein, and courage singing along +every nerve of her body. + +First she fetched wood to renew the fire, now only a heap of +smouldering embers. That done, she went to make her toilet in the +brook, with the soap and towel she had stowed in her bundle for the +shooting trip. Poor Seth! she thought, with a momentary pang; he would +not get the deer he wanted, after all. And by this thought was set in +motion a little current of regrets that filled her mind until it was +diverted by the stream. She had intended only to wash her face and +hands, now grimy after her labors at the fire. But chance led her to +a deep, still pool with a bottom of fine sand and a tiny shore of +pebbles that seemed to have been designed for bathing. Temptation +seized her, and on the very impulse, seeing that a clump of willows +screened her from the camp, she eagerly undressed, and plunged into +the water, uttering quick gasps at the cold contact, and short-clipped +shrieks of pleasure. + +And so, behold a marvel! Three days ago, in the security and +familiarity of the Park, where no hardships or perils threatened, and +where she knew that Philip was safe in his cottage across the ridge, +and that her own pink bedroom awaited her at night, so deep was she in +dejection that nothing could have induced an outburst of mere physical +enjoyment such as this. But now, while Philip lay on his blankets, a +prisoner in that narrow vale, and death stood at her side uncovered +and undisguised, her spirits rose as they had never risen since her +confession, on Mount Avalanche, and if Haig had been listening he +might have heard her low laughter across the meadow. + +Had she yet failed to realize her situation? Or was it that tragedy +had put on its comic mask, and laughed at death? The truth is simple. +Her faith had triumphed over what seemed to be insuperable obstacles; +and she was with Philip, for better or for worse. A miracle had been +wrought; and miracles are not meaningless, or idle, or without +purpose. It was a feeling perhaps unknown to man, who is merely a +reasoning creature, much given to material consideration of natural +causes and effects, and so compelled by his limitations to grope in +outer darkness. And it was not so much a feeling as an instinct, and +not so much an instinct as a law, of which she was the involuntary +instrument. Her purpose was so strong within her that there was no +need of thought; and so she did not think. + +Leaping to the pebbly bank, she rubbed herself swiftly with the towel, +and felt the glow of health rushing through her body, all pink and +gleaming in the sun. Then she dressed, and combed her hair; rinsed and +wrung out the towel, and hung it on the willow-limbs to dry; and +started back toward the camp in the highest spirits, and eager for +service. And then, at twenty paces, she was stricken cold and rigid by +the sight that met her unsuspecting eyes. + +Haig had left his blankets, and was now dragging himself like a +wounded animal along the earth. Already he had covered more than half +the distance to the rock on which his revolver lay; and it seemed as +if she would stand rooted there in helpless horror until he reached +it. Then, with an incautious cry, she bounded forward. Haig heard her, +and flung himself toward the stone with reckless determination. Where +he had inches, Marion had yards to go; it was a race that might, in +another age, have done credit to the ingenuity of a Roman emperor. If +Philip was mad with pain and anger, Marion was frantic with fear and +love. It seemed to her that the turf gripped her feet, that the wind +in her face would strangle her, that her skirts were leaden sheets +around her knees. And she barely resisted falling in a senseless heap +when, at ten yards from the goal, she saw that she would be too late. + +He beat her to the rock by merely a few seconds; but he was fairly +spent. His fingers bled where he had dug them into the sand; the sweat +rolled down his face; and exhaustion bound him as with bands of iron. +Yet he was able to reach for the gun, and clutch it; and with a final +effort that seemed to tear the heart from his breast, he dragged the +weapon under him, pressed the muzzle upward, pulled the trigger, at +the very instant that Marion threw herself upon him. + +There was a muffled report, the fumes stung their eyes and nostrils, +and for a moment both lay still. Then Marion felt a movement under +her, and guessed that Haig was fumbling with the revolver. An +indescribable energy seized her, something tigerish in its fury, and +beyond her own proper powers, so that she flung him over on his back +as if he had been a child in strength and size. With both hands she +gripped the wrist below the clutched revolver, and while she held it +away from his body she drew her own body over his, and threw herself +on his extended arm, between his hand and his breast. + +There was a savage struggle still, the man affirming his right to die, +and the woman denying it. But the issue could not be long in doubt; +for Haig's strength was at the ebb, while Marion's flowed in from +earth and air and sky, from the future and from the past. And she wore +him down at last, until the revolver dropped from his grasp, his +eyelids closed, his limbs relaxed, and he lay still. Waiting a moment +for certainty, she cautiously loosened one of her hands from his +wrist, and grabbed the revolver, and flung it with all her might. +Then, seeing it land twenty feet away on the grass, she rolled away +from him, and sat up panting, hollow-eyed, disheveled, and trembling +on the verge of a collapse. + +For some seconds there was no sound but their labored breathing; and +not until Haig opened his eyes and looked at her, with a hunted, +baffled, and still defiant expression in their somber depths, did +Marion break down. Then suddenly, after a premonitory quivering of her +chin, she buried her face in her hands, and wept without more effort +at restraint, in utter abandonment to her agony. Haig watched, at +first in anger, and then in some confusion of emotions. Once before he +had looked upon her thus bowed and shaken; and now as then he felt a +strange upheaval, and an unfathomable sensation that had no likeness +to anything he had ever before experienced. He wanted very much to +speak to her, but could not trust himself; and after all, what was +there to be said? + +It was she who rescued him from irresolution. She dropped her hands +from her face, and cried out in a voice that was broken with sobbing: +"Why, Philip, why did you do that?" + +"Why?" he asked, in something like amazement. + +"Yes." + +"I've already told you why." + +"But--no--you haven't told me!" + +"It was to save you--for one thing." + +"To save me?" + +"I told you that your only chance is to go at once." + +"But I told you I wouldn't go!" + +"I know. That's the reason." + +"But--don't you know, Philip, that--don't you see that--if you killed +yourself you'd--kill me too?" + +There should have been no necessity for these words. Perhaps any other +man in the world, certainly most men of far less intelligence and less +acuteness of feeling, would have known long ago just what she meant. +He knew, indeed, that this girl loved him; but he did not believe that +she or any other woman was capable of the sacrifice implied in her +answer. + +"You mean that--you would have--" He hesitated. + +"Yes." + +There ensued a silence that fell like a mist between them, through +which neither knew the way. She saw that he had begun, by ever so +little, to understand; and she feared to say more lest a wrong word +should overtake a right one. As for Haig, his incredulity persisted +notwithstanding the unquestionable sincerity of her speech. He did not +doubt that she contemplated, in this moment of emotion, the complete +and final sacrifice. But he was quite convinced that she would take a +different view of the situation when the test should come. She did not +yet appreciate, he argued, the peril of their position; she had not +realized the hazard of her adventure or she never would have +undertaken it; and undoubtedly she still thought there would be a way +out for them. Under such a delusion it was easy for her, he concluded, +to talk about dying with him. But she was tragically in error. His +eyes lifted to the cliff. She should have been up there on her return +hours ago. Now it was too late again; for the clouds were black and +ugly on the summit, and a distant roaring came to his ears; and he +knew what was happening or in preparation in the middle of the flat. +But he must find a way to send her up that trail at dawn the next day; +and his gaze dropped to where the revolver lay just visible in the +thin grass into which she had thrown it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +DIANA + + +Still no speech came to either of them. After a while Marion rose +silently, and went about her work. First, however, she sought the +revolver in the grass, and carried it, with her rifle, to the clump of +willows by the brook, where both weapons were safely beyond the +present limits of Philip's powers. Then she returned to him with her +towel, one end of it wetted and soaped. + +"May I, please?" she asked, smiling down at him. + +"If you wish," he answered. + +She knelt, and began to wash the grime from his face, to cleanse the +wound on his head, and readjust the bandage. Then his hands, after +another trip to the stream to rub out the soiled end of the towel; and +she was still busy with one of them, when she started back with a cry. +His coat had opened wider, and she saw that his shirt was stained with +blood. She had forgotten the revolver-shot! + +"It's nothing," said Haig. "Only a flesh wound, I think." + +"But why didn't you tell me!" she cried, almost with anger in her +alarm. + +"It doesn't matter, does it?" + +"Let me see it, quick!" she commanded. + +He looked at her a moment, then opened the front of his flannel shirt +and of the undershirt, and disclosed a flesh wound where the bullet +had cut a streak across his chest. Marion bent close, and touched it +with her fingers. + +"Oh!" she sighed at last, in deep relief. + +Haig's reply was a laugh of which the irony did not escape her. + +"Philip!" she cried reproachfully. + +"Well, isn't it rather droll--and ludicrous, when you come to think of +it? First, Sunnysides' punch in my stomach. And now, with my head cut +open by a stone, and a broken leg, and two bullet-wounds--I've still +got a splendid appetite. I ought to be on exhibition somewhere!" + +His sardonic humor hurt her worse than his anger; and she went quickly +to the brook to cleanse the towel again. Returning presently, she +washed the new wound, and bandaged it; then examined the splints on +the broken leg to assure herself that, as nearly as she could +determine, no serious damage had been done to it by his reckless +crawl; and finally brought his blankets, and insisted on making a sort +of bed for him. After that she cooked two slices of bacon, and on +this, with a little bread, they made their first meal of the day. And +this brought her to the next and most pressing problem. + +"Will you help me think, Philip?" she asked, when they had eaten. + +"About what?" + +"Food." + +"What's in the larder?" + +She smiled at his tone, in spite of her own seriousness. + +"Bacon--perhaps enough for three days, with the bread, if we don't eat +much; and chocolate for four or five breakfasts. That's all." + +"And then?" + +"Are there deer in those forests, do you think?" + +"Very likely. This is an un-hunted country, I imagine." + +"Great!" she cried. + +"What do you propose to do? Whistle for them?" + +She could afford to smile at that. + +"Didn't you see my rifle?" + +"Just now--yes. What's it for?" + +"You'll see." + +"Diana of Thunder Mountain, eh? Well, I'm ready to admit you're some +huntress. But deer! That's another thing." + +The color flooded her cheeks. + +"Cousin Seth taught me to shoot," she answered, turning her face away. +"I killed a deer on Mount Avalanche." + +"But where did Cousin Seth learn to shoot? The last time he--" + +"Please, Philip!" + +"Well, when you've brought down your deer, what will you do with it?" + +The color deserted her face at that. + +"I watched him do it," she said, shuddering at the recollection. + +"But you can't do that alone." + +"I've got to," she replied simply. And then, on a sudden thought: +"There should be grouse too, shouldn't there?" + +"Perhaps." + +"I learned to kill grouse with my rifle." + +He looked at her with a wicked grin. This time he had her! + +"How many cartridges have you?" he asked. + +She ran for her belt, and counted the cartridges. + +"Twenty-seven." + +"So. If you never miss, you'll get twenty-seven grouse. That would +mean twenty-seven, meals. One meal a day, twenty-seven days. I'd still +be on my back, our ammunition would be gone, and--" + +"Don't!" she cried, in tears. "I wasn't thinking." + +"Never mind!" he replied, almost gently. "But we'll deny ourselves the +grouse." + +"Yes, it's got to be the deer. I'll begin now." + +"No, there's something else that must be done first." + +"What is it?" + +"We've got to move." + +"For shelter, you mean?" + +"Partly. But look there!" + +He pointed to the dead body of Trixy. + +"It will be easier--and perhaps even nicer--to move me than poor +Trixy. See that big pine yonder--the one that stands out from the +forest? Well, you and Tuesday must drag me there." + +"But how?" + +He explained his plan to her, and she set herself at once to executing +it. And her spirits rose again; for she thought he had abandoned his +desperate resolution. So, indeed, he had--for the moment. But he had +deliberately beguiled her; their situation he knew to be quite +unchanged in its inevitable termination, since a food supply would +save them from starvation only to deliver them to the snow; and he +must disarm her of suspicion in order to find a way to send her back +on the trail. For he had reflected on the implication of tragic +finality in the speech that had surprised and disturbed him; and he +did not doubt that when the time should come, and she should find +herself alone, her high resolve would prove to have been mere +emotional exaggeration. + +Mounted on Tuesday, Marion attacked the boughs of a small pine with +the hatchet until she had severed three large branches, to which she +tied Haig's rope, and hauled them back to the camp. Of these branches +Haig contrived a crude drag, on which he crawled, and lay flat; the +free end of the rope was hitched to the horn of Tuesday's saddle; and +the journey was begun. Twice the saddle slipped, and progress was +interrupted while Marion tightened the cinches. Once the drag itself +came to pieces, and Haig was left sprawling on the ground. But +eventually, with no more serious injury to Haig than a bruised elbow, +not counting his torn clothing, they reached the goal. + +There Marion made a wide bed against the exposed top roots of the +tree, filling the spaces among the pine boughs with moss, and placing +the two saddles at the head for pillows. Night had come before she had +completed this labor, and gathered another supply of dead limbs and +rotted logs, and cooked their meager supper. Then she wrapped Haig in +his blankets, and rolled herself in her own, and lay down at his side. +What with watching and replenishing the fire, and listening to +night-cries heard or imagined, and waking from restless slumber +chilled to the bone, she slept as little as on the preceding night, +and was glad of the dawn, which came peacefully enough on the heels of +a storm that raged on Thunder Mountain and sent a cold and beating +rain upon the valley. + +This day brought its own bitter disappointment. After her bath in the +clear pool among the willows, and their mere taste of bacon and bread +in the name of breakfast, and a promise exacted from Haig, as a +condition of her leaving him, that he would do nothing of which she +would disapprove, she set out to get her deer. Rifle on shoulder, and +eyes alert, she skirted the edge of the wood along the base of the +cliff, through tall grasses of a golden green, among yellowing aspen +groves, and under a fair blue sky. But presently she plunged into the +thick of the forest, of which the trees towered to a height exceeding +that of any she had ever seen before. In their tops the breeze was +singing sonorously, but among their massive boles the silence was so +tense that twigs cracking under her feet sounded like gun-shots +echoing through the dim aisles. + +For some hours she wandered fruitlessly in that dark labyrinth, not +only mindful of Philip's warning that she must not penetrate too deep +into its depth, but fearful on her own account of an encounter with +some such wild beast as that whose cry had terrified her. In time the +hollow indifference of the woods began to weigh upon her spirits, +which had been high and hopeful on her setting out. Worn out at last, +she was just on the point of turning back toward the camp, defeated, +when she came upon an open space, a lovely little glade, in which the +grass grew rank and green, unripened by the sun. She started to cross +it, but stopped suddenly, staring straight ahead. In the very middle +of the lush and silent glade, a young doe rose swiftly to its feet, +and looked at her. Marion stood and looked at the doe. Then there was +a streak of pale yellow across the grass, the forest closed around it, +and the doe was gone. Thereupon, Marion remembered her rifle, and saw +with something like surprise, to begin with, that it was pointed +foolishly toward the ground. She gazed at it a moment, then sat plump +down on the mossy earth, and cried. + +"Oh, what a fool!" she groaned. "What a poor, silly little fool! I +ought to starve, starve, starve!" + +And on the words the hunger that she had bravely kept back rose and +punished her. To be hungry in a world of plenty, where she had only to +reach out and help herself! To think of Philip, hungry too, and +depending on her, on her boasted prowess! Humiliation scorched her +like a flame. And this was Marion Gaylord! + +When she had recovered a little, she made directly for the open strip, +having no more heart for her task, and nerving herself to confess the +truth to Philip. Coming out upon the knoll through thick underbrush, +she was startled by the leap of a rabbit from under her very feet; and +before she was aware of what she was doing, she had thrown up her +rifle, and fired. There was really no aim; the action was a gesture +merely; and if she had tried to hit the rabbit she would have +undoubtedly missed it clean. But the unlucky little beast, happening +in the path of Marion's angry disgust, turned a somersault in the air, +and fell dead. + +"Of course!" cried Marion. "Of course I can kill rabbits." Then +mercilessly: "A rabbit a day for twenty-seven days--" And rage choked +her. + +But she picked up her rabbit, and walked on. In half an hour she +reached the camp, strode straight to the pine tree under which Haig +lay, and held up before him the puny prize. + +"Now I know you're proud of me!" she exclaimed, while her face +crimsoned. + +Haig smiled indulgently. It was a little better than he had expected. + +"Don't be downcast!" he said. "I didn't think you'd get a deer the +first day. You didn't even see one, I suppose." + +"But I did, though! I had one right under my eyes, not thirty feet +away. And what do you think I did?" + +"Stood and looked at it, of course. That's buck fever." + +"But it was only a tiny little doe!" + +"Doe fever then, which is probably worse, if I know anything about--" + +"That will do, Philip! You're laughing at me." + +"Not at all. You've brought home something to eat, and that's more +than I can do. Bunny looks big and fat. He'll make a fine dinner, and +leave something for to-morrow." + +"Thank you, Philip!" she said gratefully. "You make me feel as if I +were not such a failure after all." + +"If you'll trust me with the knife," he said in a tone that took some +of the edge off her satisfaction, "I'll clean him for you." + +She gave him the knife reluctantly, and did not leave his side until +he had finished cleaning and cutting up the rabbit, when he handed the +knife back to her with a gesture that made her blush again. Two things +she did not know: that he had a knife in his pocket much better suited +to his secret purpose; and that his purpose was a purpose no longer. +But even he was not yet aware of this last. + +It was not the next day, but the third, when the rabbit had been eaten +to the bone, and the pangs of hunger prodded her, that Marion restored +herself in her own eyes. In the edge of the forest, not more than two +miles from the camp, she detected a mere brown patch in the browning +bush. This time she did not forget her rifle. The brown patch moved +just as she pulled the trigger; but when she reached the spot, in a +fever of anxiety, she fairly shrieked to the wilderness. For there in +the grass, still jerking spasmodically in its death agony, lay a doe, +a larger one than that she had seen in the glade. No more "one a day +for twenty-seven days!" + +What followed haunted her dreams for many nights thereafter--a +repulsive and sickening ordeal. She had seen Huntington do it, but +then she had been able to turn her face away; and her hands--But +necessity, responsibility, and pride, and perhaps some primitive +instinct also, nerved her to the task. And she staggered back to camp, +and stood before Philip, white and trembling, but triumphant. + +"Take a drink of whisky!" ordered Haig sharply. + +She obeyed him, gulping down the last of the precious contents of her +flask. + +"It's down there--covered with leaves!" she gasped out at length. +"Will anything--disturb it before I can--take Tuesday and the rope?" + +"Do you mean you've cleaned the whole deer?" he asked curiously. + +She nodded, still shuddering. + +"Well, you're a brick!" he said heartily. Then he added: "I thought +perhaps a bobcat had stolen your--rabbit." + +She laughed with him, and then was off with Tuesday to bring her +quarry home. She was not strong enough to lift and fasten the carcass +on the horse's back; but the route was through clean grass along the +cliff, and Tuesday made short work of that, with the deer dragged at +the end of the rope. + +They had no salt, but there were a few rinds of bacon that Haig had +told Marion to keep, and these were made to serve for seasoning. That +venison, moreover, needed nothing to make it palatable; for they were +ravenously hungry. Sprawled before the fire like savages, they feasted +on a huge steak, broiled on two willow sticks, and well-browned on the +outside at the start so that the tenderness was retained; and for an +hour forgot. For so the stomach, at once the tyrant and the slave, has +sometimes its hour of triumph, when heart and soul and brain are its +willing captives, and the starkest fears and forebodings lose their +sway, and death itself, though visible and near, has no power to +ferment the grateful juices of the body. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE SNOW + + +In the night they were awakened by a terrific outburst on the mountain +top, surpassing all they had yet heard since their arrival in the +valley. The forest roared under the onslaughts of the wind that swept +down through the gorge as through a funnel. Protected though the camp +was, in a measure, fierce gusts now and then assailed it, and later +the rain came, almost in torrents, beating through the canopy of +foliage, and half-flooding the bed. + +Marion, rising to renew the fire, felt that a sharp change had come in +the atmosphere. It was colder than any night they had yet endured. +Wrapped again in her blankets, she was unable to keep warm. Her feet, +near the fire, were too hot, while her back and shoulders ached as if +they had been packed in ice. Turn which way she would, on her back, on +her side, or face downward, there was no relief from that acid cold. +She did not complain, but cried softly, trying to hold back her sobs +so that he should not hear her. + +"You're cold," he said, hearing her nevertheless. + +"A little--not very," she answered bravely. + +But he knew very well how keenly she was suffering. His injured leg +pained him almost beyond endurance, as if the frost had been +concentrated there. There was nothing he could say or do for her or +for himself. + +Toward morning, the fury of the storm having abated, they slept a +little, fitfully and uneasily, in the half-insensibility to suffering +that complete exhaustion brings. But they were glad when the first +gray light of morning stole in among the shadows and touched their +eyelids. With one accord, as if in a common apprehension, and moved by +a single fear, they raised their heads, and at the first glance about +them, sat up staring. + +The meadow lay white under its first coverlet of snow, the trees were +draped in their winter mantles, their very bed had its downy quilt of +snowflakes that had sifted through the branches of the tree. + +"It's come," said Haig simply. + +"Yes," she answered, in a voice that echoed a tragic calm. + +"But it was due." + +"Seth kept saying we'd have a hard and early winter." + +"Huntington's not such a fool as he looks," retorted Haig drily, as he +lay back to look up resignedly into the foliage, where white now +mingled with the green. + +For some time there was no more speech. Marion arose, and went +silently about her work. She heaped wood on the fire until the flames +leaped high, and the heat began to drive out the settled chill from +her limbs, and she could move again without dull pain. Then to the +brook; but her baths in the pool were ended. She washed face and +hands, and brought back the wet towel for Philip. And breakfast was +eaten almost in silence, and without appetite; for the good venison +that had so rejoiced them the night before had already lost its +flavor. + +"Do you see the circles on the trees yonder, where the moss begins?" +asked Haig at length. + +"Yes," Marion answered. + +"That's the snow line. It will lie thirty feet deep here." + +She had no answer to that. But she was thinking. There must be a way. +She had no idea what it would be; but there must be some way out of +it. + +When the camp had been cleaned up, and the pan and cup had been washed +and put aside, and the fire replenished, she brought her rifle from +its place behind the tree. + +"I'm going for a walk," she said. + +"Where?" + +"I don't know. Down along the cliff perhaps. I may see another deer." + +"Yes. You might as well. Deer meat will keep--longer than we--" + +He checked the unnecessary speech. She rewarded him with a smile and +left him. + +And now he faced a curious situation within himself. He saw clearly, +but strangely without sensation, that it was too late for Marion to +attempt the passage of the mountain. Whatever chance she might have +had before--and that was perhaps even less than the one in a thousand +of which he had spoken--she had now no chance at all, supposing that +he should force her to seek it by measures of desperation. And why had +he delayed? He did not know. Had he weakened? Had his injuries taken +something from his courage? He drew his treasured knife from his +pocket, opened the largest of the three keen blades, and passed it +slowly but lightly across his wrist. No; his hand was steady; he +could do it without a tremor. He could have done it yesterday, the day +before, or any day. Well, then; had he become sceptical of such a +solution of his problem? Perhaps. Six times in his life he had +attempted that solution, and always he had failed. And yet, what could +have thwarted him when Marion was far away in the forest, and he lay +quiet and undisturbed on his blankets, in full possession of his +faculties? + +By such process of elimination he arrived at the final question: was +it she? Was it this girl that now stayed his hand, in spite of all his +logic and clear vision and resolution? This girl, with her foolish +faith, and misplaced love, and futile talk of miracles? Was it written +that they should die together--written in some volume of the book of +life into which he had never looked? Or was she right? And would there +be-- + +He looked out again upon the gleaming whiteness of the meadow, at the +snow line on the pines, at the remorseless mountain. He passed slowly +in review again the chances of a rescue, the chances of their +wintering in that (soon-to-be) snowbound valley, the chances of +a--miracle. And he shook his head. The odds were beyond all reckoning; +their fate was now as certain as if the cliff yonder, rent by another +cataclysm, had tumbled down upon them while they slept. But he had +known this in the very hour of his awakening to find her kneeling at +his side; he had delayed giving her the one chance of escape. And so, +was it because she had commanded him and he had unconsciously obeyed? + +It was mystery; it was enigma. He tried to think if he had erred in +any way, if there was any fault to be attributed to him. No; he had +dealt more than fairly with this girl; he had spoken frankly and +brutally; he had never once consciously, by word or look, enticed her. +Unconsciously, perhaps; but how could he ever have foreseen such +consequences of the infatuation of which he had become slowly and +incredulously informed? He would have gone raging out of the Park, +between two suns (and Thursby be damned!), if he had ever dreamt of +this tragic end of her midsummer madness. + +For two hours he lay thinking, torturing his brain for an explanation +of this mystery, an understanding of this coil. And he was no nearer a +solution than at the beginning, when his thoughts were interrupted by +Marion. She came running out of the forest--not running, but fairly +bounding, as if her feet were too light to rest on earth. Her face was +flushed, her eyes danced with excitement. But then, seeing his grave +and questioning face, she stopped short in front of him, suddenly +embarrassed. + +"Well?" he asked gently. + +"Would--a cave do?" + +Her voice trembled between timidity and shortness of breath. + +"A cave?" + +"Yes." + +"What kind of a cave?" + +"A big cave--really two caves joined together." + +"Where?" + +"In the cliff--down there." + +She pointed in the direction from which she had come at full speed. + +"How high above the level of the valley?" + +She stared at him, and was again embarrassed. + +"I forgot that!" she said, in deep chagrin. "But wait, please!" She +looked around her. "I think--I know what you mean! It's higher up than +the marks on the trees there, surely it is!" + +"Tell me about it!" + +"It's only a little way from here. There's a narrow, clear space all +along between the forest and the cliff, where the grass grows high. +But there's one place--I missed it before, when I was just looking for +deer--where the cliff--How can I describe it? It sinks in, and there's +a slope up to it, solid rock. And at the top of the slope I saw a +black hole, and got off my pony to look in. The slope is easy to +climb. Tuesday climbed it with me. The mouth of the cave is partly +hidden by a rock that sticks out so that you can see the opening only +from one side. The entrance is no bigger than the door of your stable. +I was afraid at first, but--" + +"You thought of your miracle," he suggested, with a smile. + +"I knew something must be done, so I held my rifle ready, thinking it +might be a wild beasts' den, and listened a minute, and went in. +There's the big cave first, as large as the sitting-room and kitchen +together at Cousin Seth's, and there's a smaller one at the side, with +a narrow opening between them. The small one has an opening outside +too, just big enough for me to squeeze through, and look out on the +forest below." + +"Was it cold in there? Did the wind blow through?" + +"No, I think not. It seemed very dry and warm." + +He looked at her intently, and so strangely that she blushed again, +she knew not why. + +"Who are you, anyhow?" he asked, in a curious tone. + +"I?" + +"Yes, you?" + +"I don't understand," she faltered in confusion. + +"No matter!" he said. "We'll try the cave." + +He had no faith in the experiment. Even with food and shelter, there +was still the cold that would steadily sap their strength, and stretch +them lifeless before half the winter should have passed. But she +should have her way; it would divert her mind from the inevitable; and +they would, at least, be doing all their best. The trip to the cave +would be hell for him, in his condition, but all that would be, at its +worst, soon ended. + +A whole day being needed for the removal, they ventured to wait until +the following morning. Storms raged through all the night on Thunder +Mountain, and they woke again in utter wretchedness to find another +and heavier sheet of snow upon the meadow. + +But Marion was soon up and at work in eagerness and hope. The fire and +the broiled venison renewed them; and even the snow offered something +by way of compensation, for Haig's journey on the freshly constructed +drag was smoother over the snow than it had been in the first instance +over the stone-littered earth. The ascent to the opening of the cave +was, however, another matter; and there was imminent danger of +Tuesday's sliding backward on the slippery rock, and crushing Haig +beneath him. Twice, indeed, such a fatal accident was narrowly +averted, and a less sure-footed animal than Tuesday would have +resolved all Haig's doubts in one swift catastrophe. But there was no +alternative, and Haig at length lay safe enough, though racked and +exhausted, at the mouth of the cave; and when he had rested he raised +himself on his elbows and looked around him. + +The top of the slope was almost level, and made a kind of porch in +front of their new abode, about thirty feet in length and of half that +measurement in its greatest width. Haig calculated the height of the +platform above the valley--fully forty feet. Below was the strip of +grass, and then the forest towering high above them, protecting the +cave, in some degree, from the winds that would come roaring down the +gulch. At this height they should be able, in all probability, to defy +the snows. With a sufficient store of food and fuel, and any kind of +luck, there would have been--God! Was there a chance? + +With his back to the wall! He had always been at his best against long +odds. None of the adventures of the ten years that he counted as his +life had ever been for any kind of gain; and the finest of them had +been those in which there were the most tight places. So this coming +struggle with the elements, though it should be a trial not of valor +but of endurance and resourcefulness, lacking swift action and a +culmination in one stirring hour, would once have allured him like a +splendid game. And even now, for one instant, while he sat there +keenly counting the forces on one side and the other, the pride of +battle lighted up his features, and for that instant he was himself +again. But a cruel and timely twinge in his injured leg recalled him +to realities. His back was not to the wall; it was flat on the +ground. He could not walk, he could not stand; and for weeks to come +he would continue to be as helpless as in that moment. To endure a +siege of eight months in the cave its garrison must have huge stores +of food and fuel; pine boughs and moss in lieu of bedding; solid +barricades at the entrances; and countless makeshifts for the comforts +that were denied. And before he should be able to stir it would be too +late. No, it was an idle dream; a month would see the end of both of +them. So he lay back again, and looked up vacantly into the cold, blue +sky. + +But Marion, standing at one side and watching him, had seen that +flicker of the fire within, and was grateful for it beyond all reason +or belief. It was all she needed. Her hands were already raw and +bleeding, but she would work them to the bone if he would only guide +and advise and comfort her; and she knew now that she could trust him, +since there was no longer any question whether she should go or stay. + +All that day was spent in bringing up fresh boughs and moss for their +beds, and in making them against the wall of the cavern where draughts +would be the least likely to sweep over them; in bestowing their +meager belongings; in hanging the venison from sticks thrust into a +crevice in the rock; in finding the best place for the fire that must +never be allowed to go down, and in planning the storage of food and +fuel. + +Marion had no pressing anxiety about food, now that she had brought in +her first deer; but fuel was a different matter. To her own +appreciation of the problem Haig, that evening after dinner, added +some calculations that revealed it to her in its baldest aspects. The +morning, too, disclosed another layer of snow upon the valley. The +winter was coming on without pity, and each succeeding day would see +its lines drawn a little closer round them. There was not an hour, not +a moment to be lost. + +At dawn she began, with Tuesday and the rope, to haul dead limbs and +logs, the largest she was able to handle, going far at first in order +to leave the nearest supplies for the last harvesting in deep snow. +Under Haig's instructions, she filled all the space in the caves that +would not be actually needed for their living quarters. Then she built +the logs into a square and solid pile on the platform at one side of +the entrance. These were not logs in any formidable sense, being for +the most part half-rotted fragments of tree trunks that had long been +decaying in the mold. But they were dry now, after the summer, and +they made excellent slow-burning fuel. The dead limbs she cut up into +small sticks, and filled the interstices of the heap, and all the +space between it and the wall of rock. And eventually the whole +platform was covered, and the slope on each side, until there was no +longer room for Tuesday to mount to it, and barely room for Marion +herself. + +In the meantime, varying her exertions, she made several trips into +the woods for deer. After many disappointments, she succeeded, before +the snow became too deep for further expeditions, in bringing back to +the cave a splendid buck and three young does. Haig made for her a +rabbit snare, and taught her how to set it, and with this device she +had the luck to add a dozen rabbits to their store. And all this time +she was piling up every stick of wood that she could find space for, +even making a great heap at the foot of the slope to be drawn upon +before the snow should cover it. + +Always the snow fell, steadily, remorselessly. Every night it snowed, +and every day more or less, with intervals of brilliant sunshine. The +wind blew with increasing violence, tossing the snow into huge drifts +upon the meadow, which Marion still saw sometimes in her wood +gathering, and sifting it in level masses among the trees, and +flinging it in great banks against the cliff. Up and up crept the +drifts and banks and levels until there came a day when she could do +no more. + +And that day it seemed that she could have done no more in any kind of +weather, under any inspiration or necessity. The record of what she +did is but a footnote to the page of what she suffered. Time after +time she had sunk down in the snow and lain there exhausted until +strength came to her again from somewhere, and then had risen +_manfully_ to her work. For it was a man's work she did, with a +courage as much greater than a man's as her strength was less. She was +strong, for a woman; she had lived all her life much out of doors; and +she had entered upon this ordeal in perfect health. But her +willingness outsped her powers; and when the snow had spared her by +driving her into the cave, she fairly staggered and groped and leaned +against the wall, and knew that if she should now collapse she would +never rise again. But even in that climax of her suffering, when for a +moment she dared not move, in fear of toppling over on the floor, and +could not keep back her sobs, there was an answer ready when Haig +called to her across the cave. + +"What is it, Marion?" he asked softly. + +"Tuesday!" she answered chokingly. + +"What about Tuesday?" + +"He's a good horse." + +"Yes." + +"He never balked or--hesitated. He never threw me--but once, and that +wasn't his fault. It was--" + +She stopped. And out of what black depths, and across what vistas of +hope and despair and love and anguish, she looked back to that scene +in the golden summer, in the Forbidden Pasture. + +"Yes, I remember," said Haig. + +Then she told him brokenly how she had just said farewell to Tuesday; +how he stood at the foot of the slope, thin as a specter, belly-deep +in snow, his nose lifted inquiringly toward her. + +"Good-by, Tuesday!" she cried; and fled stumbling up the slope, her +hands on her ears to shut out his plaintive whinny. + +Haig watched her narrowly, and was not deceived. Through the first few +days of Marion's struggles he had lain on his pallet in almost +complete indifference, in full acceptance of the fate that awaited +them; not callous to her sufferings, but resigned, as he thought, to +endure what could not be prevented. Having resolved to humor her, he +went from the extreme of resistance to the extreme of submission, and +hardened his heart to endure what galled and humiliated and degraded +him. Then anger seized him once more,--anger at Marion, anger at +himself, anger at Thursby, anger at circumstances, chance and destiny: +blinding and suffocating anger. To have been brought to this shameful +state, to lie there watching a woman, a mere girl, perform these +menial tasks for him--for him who had execrated and despised and +scorned her sex--for him who had accepted such services grudgingly +even from men--for him who had stalked around the world in defiant +independence, indebted to no man and obligated to no woman: this was +odious and intolerable. And it must be tolerated! + +Marion knew nothing of this fiery ordeal through which Haig came. Even +in the fiercest and most maddening moment of his agony, when honor and +pride and self-respect were being reduced to ashes, he did not fail to +realize that to cry out, to rave or curse or denunciate, would only be +to add something cowardly and contemptible to the sum of his disgrace. +He did not even cast a stealthy glance toward his revolver, where it +lay in a niche in the cavern wall, though Marion was out in the snow +somewhere, and could not have stopped him if he had crawled to seize +it. That, too, would have been an act of cowardice and of infamy; and +something deep within him now continually spoke for her, and for +whatever it was she stood for in this chaos that was the end of all. + +His fury slowly passed, and he had but emerged from its strangely +purifying fire into a calm that was well-nigh as terrible, when she +entered sobbing into the cave to tell him the pitiable little lie that +all her visible distress was for a pony to whom she had said farewell. +He saw her presently totter forward to put more fuel on the fire and +begin to prepare their evening meal. With eyes from which the smoke of +passion had now lifted, he saw what he had only vaguely seen before: +that she was thin and haggard; that her pale face took on a hectic +flush in the glow of the blazing pine; that her clothes were all in +tatters, her riding-skirt slit in many places, her coat and flannel +waist so worn, and torn that they barely covered her, and did indeed +reveal one white shoulder through a gaping rent; that one dilapidated +boot was quite out at toe; and that she was ill and faint and silent. + +"Marion!" he called to her. + +"Yes, Philip!" she answered, turning to look at him. + +"Come here, please!" + +She came and stood before him, unsteadily. + +"Let me see your hands!" + +She knelt, and held them out to him. Taking them in his own hands, +which were then far softer and whiter than hers, he looked long at the +raw and bleeding cracks, at the swollen joints, at the bruised and +calloused fingers, at the nails (they were once so pink and polished) +worn down to the quick, and at one nail that had been split back +almost to its root. + +"They're not very pretty, are they?" she said, with a weak little +laugh that ended in a quiver of her chin. + +He lifted the hands, the right one and then the left, and touched them +with his lips. She was very weary and faint and miserable; and he had +never done anything like that before; and so she drew back her hands, +and buried her face in them, and sank sobbing on the floor. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE VOICE IN THE HURRICANE + + +Their sufferings, as the days went crawling into weeks, attained a +certain dead level of wretchedness. At that level, should nothing +worse befall, they felt that they might exist through the eight months +of their imprisonment; beyond that level lay deliverance by death. So +they kept a painstaking account of time, and made a sort of solemn +ceremony of that hour when, as night let down its black curtain before +the entrance of the cavern, Marion cut another notch in the wall, and +they clasped hands in a brave effort at good cheer, and said to each +other, "One more! One more!" + +The cold had steadily increased until it was just barely endurable. By +day it was possible to combat it in some measure, but at night they +were stung and tortured by the frost that invaded the cave, and defied +their meager clothing. If they tried lying closely side by side with +their blankets spread over them, the cold crept under the coverings, +and bit through their garments into their emaciated limbs. If they +wrapped themselves tightly in the blankets, one pair to each, and lay +near the fire, they were able to catch only a few fitful moments of +sleep before the frost on one side and the heat on the other forced +them to move. + +At inexorable intervals the fire must be replenished. Heavy with sleep +that was not sleep, feeble from lack of nourishment, and stiff from +cold, Marion would rise and stumble to the nearest heap of wood, and +carefully lay two or three pieces on the dying embers. The fire itself +was to Marion a source of continual dread; for not only did it consume +their precious and unrenewable supply of wood with a terrifying +voracity, but she was fairly obsessed by the fear that she might let +it go out. In that event they might never waken, clutched by the cold +in their sleep; or wakening, find that something had happened to the +matches. There remained a good store of these in the box enfolded +carefully in a bit of cloth and a strip of deerskin, and bestowed in a +high niche of the cavern; but there was sometimes moisture in the +night winds, and there could be no absolute assurance that the matches +would ignite in an emergency. + +The winds blew irregularly, sometimes roaring through the cave, and +filling it with a whirl of smoke and snow, and sometimes creeping +along the floor with the malevolence and stealthiness of a serpent. +Marion had blocked up the entrance with small logs and limbs, but the +winds and draughts made scorn of this loose barrier. Her clothes were +fast falling from her body. She essayed crude patchwork with strips of +deerskin and pins of wood, but these efforts were rendered futile by +wear and tear and the rotting of the cloth itself. She began to be +embarrassed when her flesh showed through the rents in her garments; +but Haig, with a mingling of frankness and tact that might indeed have +been less easy in other circumstances, effectually helped her to +banish all false modesty from a situation in which they were reduced +to primitive habits and almost to primitive familiarities. + +She was less able to accustom herself to the dirt, from which there +was no escape, but which irked her nevertheless more than all else. +She was no longer able to keep clean in any sense of cleanliness +associated with civilization. Washing with water melted from snow, +without soap or towels, had only the effect, as it seemed to her, to +fix the grime more deeply in her skin. And the hair that had been her +pride had now no more the golden lights in its tawny masses, and was +becoming dark and harsh and sheenless in spite of her most assiduous +attention. + +"Don't worry!" said Haig one day, in a grim attempt at humor. "Just +imagine you are a belle of the Eskimos." + +"Philip! How can you?" she cried. + +"Washing," he went on, "is only another error of civilization. I have +seen whole tribes of most respectable aborigines that never bathed. +And they seemed to be quite happy. It saves a lot of time. But that's +another queer thing. The more time we need, the more we waste it on +matters that are really unimportant. Like most of our attempts to +improve on nature, it costs more than it's worth, and--" + +"That will do, Philip!" she protested. "I can forget I'm hungry, +but--ugh! not this!" + +But she spoke too bravely about her hunger. Their food by this time +had begun to pall. The good venison, of which they had eaten joyously +at first, became tasteless and then disgusting. They had no salt. The +bacon and the bread had long since been consumed, and the chocolate +also. There was left nothing but the flesh of deer and rabbits. Marion +stewed it, broiled it, baked it under hot ashes; and they even +nibbled at it raw; but the time came when only the relentless pangs of +hunger, the hunger of the animal, the sheer clamor of their stomachs +could force them to eat the nauseating food. In consequence of this +revulsion, they were always hungry; and sometimes, in spite of their +resolution, they descended to torturing each other with talk of the +good things there were in the world to eat. + +"Claire makes the most gorgeous apple dumplings!" said Marion on one +of these occasions. + +"Apple dumplings? Ye-es," replied Haig judiciously. "But what about +plain dumplings in chicken gravy?" + +"Fricassee!" cried Marion. + +"No. Maryland." + +"Still, Philip, if I had my choice it wouldn't be chicken at all." + +"What then?" + +"Potatoes. Big, baked potatoes, split open, you know, with butter and +salt and paprika." + +"Or sweet potatoes swimming in butter." + +"And salad--lettuce and tomatoes and oil and vinegar." + +"And then pie. Think of blackberry pie!" + +"And jam. I do love jam spread on toast." + +"I'll tell you something," said Haig recklessly. "I could even eat +sauerkraut!" + +Their worst craving was for salt. Marion could fairly taste the spray +of the Atlantic on the bathing beaches. She dreamt of salt,--barrels +of salt and oceans of salt and caves she had read of in which salt +hung in glittering stalactites. And Haig too. He described a desert +where salt had risen to the surface and gleamed in crystals in the +sand. And once he had lived a long time on salt pork, which he had +thought the most insufferable food. But now! The taste of it came back +to him, and went tingling through every nerve. + +To free their minds from such tormenting memories, Haig went deep into +his adventures, his wanderings, his search for excitements. He told +her of strange lands and peoples, of the beautiful spots of the world, +of battles and perils and escapes,--everything he had been through, +with one exception. That--the story of Paris--was still a closed book +to her. And similarly, there was one chapter of her life that she did +not open to him. A certain delicacy, rendered more vital by their very +situation, in which few delicacies could be maintained, restrained +them from the uttermost self-revelation. The one subject that was not +touched upon in the most intimate of their conversations was that +dearest to Marion's heart and most incomprehensible to Haig's reason. +Partly this avoidance was intuitive, and partly deliberate; where +there was so much suffering that could not be escaped, they were +scrupulous to inflict upon each other no unnecessary pain or +embarrassment. Between a more common man and a less fastidious woman, +placed in such propinquity, there would almost inevitably have been +concessions and compromises but between these two there remained a +barrier that might have been passed by Marion's unquestioning love, +but never by Haig's inclinations, curbed as they had been through many +years, and still reined in by his distrust. + +The day came when it seemed safe for Haig to stand and to move a +little about the cave. He had fashioned slowly a pair of rude +crutches, if they could be so called,--two pine limbs trimmed down +with his pocketknife, with their natural forks left to fit under his +arms. Marion protested that he was attempting this feat much too soon, +but she was compelled to watch him in an agony of suspense lest he +should fall on the hard floor of the cave, or rest his weight on the +injured leg, and so undo all that had cost them so much of care and +labor. But caution restrained him; for he was aware of the danger, +though he was also half-mad with impatience to be a man once more. +Venturing only a few tentative steps at first, he steadily accustomed +himself to movement with the aid of the awkward crutches, and in a few +days was able to take up some of the work of their wretched +habitation. Marion saw that this pleased him immensely, almost as if +he had been a boy entrusted with a man's responsibility; and once, +too, she saw him stand a long time before the row of notches on the +wall, and thought his figure straightened, and a flush came into his +pale cheek. + +And then, in the sixth week of their imprisonment, Marion fell ill. +She had caught a cold, which was not the first by any means, but much +more severe than its predecessors. With watery eyes and red noses and +distressing coughs they had become familiar, but this was plainly a +more serious matter. For three days more she dragged herself about, +trying to conceal her state from him and from herself, but crying +softly when he did not see her. + +One morning, as the dawn crept into the cavern, she tried as usual to +rise from her hard bed, and fell back with a stifled moan. Haig heard +her, and raised his head quickly, struck by an unaccustomed note in +her low cry. + +"What is it, Marion?" he asked in alarm. + +"It's no use, dear!" she whispered. "I can't get up." + +For a moment he lay stricken, incapable of thought. Not that the event +was unexpected. He had been reckoning on that; he had seen her +steadily failing, and knew that she could not go on indefinitely under +such privations. And yet, when it came, it was appalling. The grayness +of the cave settled down upon him like a pall. Once he would have been +indifferent to it, resigned to the knowledge that it was inevitable. +But now he had come, if not to share her hope, at least to sympathize +with it, and to wish ardently for her sake that her faith might be +justified. And it seemed a pitiable thing that she should have been +deceived, an intolerable thing that she should die there so +uselessly,--for him. + +He moved over to her, and placed his hand on her forehead. It was +burning hot. + +"Water, please!" she gasped. + +He hobbled to the entrance, and brought a cupful of snow, and melted +it over the fire. She drank the water greedily, and begged for more. +But he told her gently that she must wait a little while. Then he sat +thinking. What should be done with fever? It would probably be +pneumonia, or something as fatal. And it would take her as the north +wind takes the drooping petals of a rose. + +He bent over her, and tried to soothe her with such futile words as +came. The look she gave him went straight into deep, dark cells of his +being that he thought had been closed and sealed forever. She begged +him to eat; he must cook his own breakfast. Oh, but he must eat, or he +should not be able to help her, she said. She would be quite well in a +day or two; she was sure of that; and he must not get sick too. After +he had been so patient and so good to her! + +Haig turned away with a groan, and tried to obey her. But eat? Eat +that repulsive food that he had choked down these many days only to +please her, only to subscribe to her foolish faith? He could not! But +presently she raised her head, and saw that he was not eating, and +chided him. Whereupon he swallowed some morsels of the venison, and +assured her that he had eaten heartily. + +All that day she lay there, her face flushed, her eyes gleaming with a +brightness that was more than the brightness of her indomitable +spirit. When she smiled up at him he turned his face away that she +might not see what he knew was written on it. And then he realized how +much that smile had come to mean to him--how all unawares he had come +to covet and to prize it--how he had half-consciously of late resorted +to unexpected words and gestures to coax it to her lips. + +There was no sleep for either of them that night. The next day Marion +grew steadily worse, and toward evening she became delirious. And +there was no concealment in this delirium as there had been in his. +All that he had not seen and heard and guessed before was now wholly +revealed to him. He was permitted to see deep into the pure soul of +the girl, into her very heart that was brimming over with love for +him. His name came riding on every breath. It was Philip, Philip, +Philip! And bit by bit, and fragment by fragment, he heard all the +pitiful story of her love, of her petty stratagems, of the wicked +little plot she had made, of the traps from which he had extricated +himself, of the pretended sprain in her ankle, of her watching and +waiting, of the anguish he had caused her, of her solitary communion +with the stars on Mount Avalanche, of her dismissal of Hillyer, of her +faith in the love that should not be denied and unrequited, of her +prayers for a miracle that should bring him to her at last. + +He looked down at the poor, small foot in its ragged shoe; yes, that +was the foot that was "sprained." And how it had trudged, and dragged +itself along for him, when every bone and muscle of her body ached! He +looked at her hands, thin even in their swollenness, raw and bleeding, +hard as a laborer's on the palms. How they had toiled and bled for +him! For him! And what about him? What about Philip Haig? + +He leaned back from her, and closed his eyes. And suddenly it seemed +as if something fell away from them, as if something that had bound +and imprisoned and blinded him had been rudely shattered. In one +terrible, torturing revelation he saw clearly what he had been, what +he had done, what a miserable wreck he had made of life, what a +pitiable, dwarfed, misshapen thing his soul had become in comparison +with the soul of this girl whom he had despised. He saw that he had +lived a life of almost untouched egoism, setting his own wrongs above +all the other wrongs in the world, counting his own griefs the +greatest of all griefs, nursing his own tragedy as if it had been the +first tragedy and the last. Bitterly, remorselessly he reviewed his +selfishness, his hatred, his senseless rage, the heartlessness wrought +by himself in a nature that had been, in the beginning, as pure, if +not as precious and fine and beautiful, as hers. + +And that was not all. He had taken woman for the special object of his +hatred. He had made himself believe that all women were alike. Was +there, then, only one kind of woman in a world filled with many kinds +of men? Because he had been a fool, because he had been deceived by +one woman, he had concluded, in his folly, that every woman was a +vampire or a parasite,--"a rag and a bone and a hank of hair"! + +And now there lay before him indeed (and the words took on a new and +more terrible meaning) "a rag and a bone and a hank of hair." Yes, +this was all that was left of her. This was what he had made of the +most joyous and most beautiful creature that had ever crossed his +path; this was the best he could do for one who had had the misfortune +to love him and the courage to tell him so. This was his work! His +memory went back to that day before the post-office. How beautiful she +was then, how strangely beautiful, coming out of that halo of light by +the side of the golden outlaw. Something had stirred within him then, +as it had stirred again and again: at Huntington's when she reached +for his revolver; in his cottage that last afternoon of her nursing. +And he had repulsed it, put it down, and trampled on it, as if it had +been an execrable thing instead of the very treasure he had been +seeking all his life without knowing what he sought. And now he +recognized it for what it was--too late! + +He bent nearer to her, listening. + +"Philip! Philip!" she was saying, in tender, coaxing accents, +with that quivering of her chin that had many times been almost +irresistible. + +Then came the final break-up of everything within him. He felt lifted +as upon a flood, and a wild and passionate longing surged through all +his being. He leaned swiftly over her, and clasped her in his arms, +and pressed her hot cheek against his own. And then--it was +unendurable; he felt one of her arms softly encircling his neck. There +was just one gentle pressure, and then the arm fell to her side, and +her head sank weakly away from him. He laid her back tenderly on her +hard bed. + +He sat up again, looking at her and listening. She rambled on in +half-coherent speech. She had not heard him cry out her name; or if +she had heard him it had been only a part of her fevered dreams. And +this was the crowning bitterness: that he should want to speak to her, +to tell her that he loved her, and she could not hear; that he was too +late, and she would never know. + +He leaped to his feet in a whirling tempest of rage. He stumbled to +the mouth of the cave, and thrust himself half through the barricade, +and looked out into the wilderness of snow, and stood shaking his fist +at it, quivering with passion, and uttering the wildest imprecations +upon the world, upon the outlaw, and upon himself. And gradually they +centered upon himself alone; and he stood presently, as it were, naked +before God, with something like a prayer unspoken, a silent, +voiceless petition rising from his tortured soul. + +He became calm after that. A curious peace, it seemed, had flowed in +upon him. Mechanically he renewed the fire, brought water and held it +to Marion's lips, and eased her position on the bed. Then he sat by +her side to wait! + +Well, this was the end. She would be going soon,--to-morrow, or the +day after. He glanced toward the shelf where Marion's rifle and his +revolver lay. She would not be there now to snatch the weapon from his +hand! But she would be waiting for him. And there came back to him the +strange feeling he had experienced in his cottage--the pressure of her +hand still warm on his own--her hand helping up and up and out of the +Valley of the Shadow. And her hand would be stretched out for him--in +the Beyond-- + + * * * * * + +It must have been about the middle of the next forenoon--he had ceased +to reckon time, and there were no more notches cut on the black wall +of the cave--when Philip, sitting at Marion's side, observed a +curious, restless movement of her head. She had lain all morning in a +stupor, very still, with only an occasional murmur from her dry lips. +But now, moving her head from side to side, she tried to lift it, as +if to listen. + +"What is it, Marion?" asked Haig, leaning close to her. + +"Listen!" she whispered. + +He obeyed her, or pretended to, and turned an ear toward the mouth of +the cavern. The wind was up with its wailing and its snarls and +shrieks. He heard it for a moment, then looked at her again. + +"My poor girl! My poor Marion!" he said. + +"Listen!" she repeated, with a touching emphasis, almost childish, +almost petulant. + +He heard the storm. + +"Yes, Marion," he said, humoring her. + +"Can't you hear it?" she pleaded. "Listen!" + +It was the delirium again; she was hearing things that were not, +except in her disordered mind. Perhaps--he had read somewhere that the +dying, those of them that are pure at heart, sometimes hear the +calling of the-- + +"Somebody's--coming!" she cried in the thinnest, most childlike +treble. Her face shone; she tried to sit up; she raised one hand +feebly toward him. + +"Please lie down, dear!" pleaded Haig, pressing her gently back. + +She resisted him, smiling and frowning at the same time. + +"Be--very--still. And--listen!" she persisted. + +To please her, he sat erect, and listened. They were very still then, +one of her hands between both of his. And the storm was raging. It was +wilder, wilder. All the fury of Thunder Mountain seemed to be behind +the wind that came shrieking and bellowing down the gulch. + +The seconds passed, with dead silence in the cave, and that bedlam let +loose outside. + +Then suddenly Haig lifted his head. What was it? There seemed to have +come--No, it was but a mocking voice of the hurricane, one of the +myriad voices of that wintry inferno, mocking them with a half-human +cry. He looked sadly down at Marion, and saw that wondrous smile again +upon her emaciated face. Oh, but this was maddening! Yet because she +wished it, he listened again. And then, out of that tumult--very faint +and far-- + +"My God! My God!" he shouted. + +He leaped to his feet. He forgot his crutches. He flung himself across +the floor of the cave in three reckless bounds, flung himself on the +barrier of logs and limbs, clawing it like a maniac, or a wild beast, +tore his way through it, and stood in the snow on the platform, +calling into the storm, shrieking, bellowing, out-shrieking and +out-bellowing the storm, swaying dizzily in the wind, and clutching at +the air before him in a frenzy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE MAN WHO DID NOT FORGET + + +Out of the tempest came the answering halloo; and Haig redoubled his +outcries. Twice it came, whipped and broken by the wind; and then +there was but the wind itself. Exhausted by his efforts, and sick of +desperation and despair, Haig sank back weakly against the rock. +Round and round him whirled the snow; across his face the wind cut +him with savage lashes; in his ears there was nothing, nothing but +the storm. Then, all grew black before him. After all, it had been +an hallucination; he had been as mad as Marion in her delirium; he +had peopled the storm with imaginary beings, had given the wind a +voice it did not know. Crushed by disappointment, acknowledging the +end, he was sinking down upon the snow-covered platform, when, +suddenly-- + +"Hal-lo-o-o!" + +It was nearer and louder than before. Haig straightened up, and again +filled the tumultuous air with hoarse cries. Once more the voice came; +and then out of the white chaos at the right of the cave, almost level +with the platform, a dark form appeared, striding forward with a +peculiar swinging motion, clumsily but sure. + +Haig uttered one more call that dribbled into a sobbing cry. + +"All--right!" answered the figure, in a smothered tone. + +Huge, hunchbacked and cumbersome, the figure shuffled up the slight +slope between the level of the snow and the snowy platform, and +halted. A mittened hand went up to its head, and brushed the snow from +the face. + +"Pete!" cried Haig. + +He attempted to move forward, stumbled, lunged toward the Indian, and +collapsed in his arms. Pete, holding him, looked around until he saw +the opening of the cave, and fairly carried Haig inside. For a few +seconds, seeing nothing in the sudden change from the dazzling +whiteness of the snow to the dim red light of the cavern, Pete stood +still. Then Haig stiffened, stood erect, and pushed the Indian from +him. + +"There! Look!" he gasped, pointing to where Marion lay, wild-eyed on +the bed, wrapped in her blankets. Then he sank down on the floor, with +his back against the wall, and gave himself up to dizziness and +exhaustion. + +Pete quickly removed his thick mittens, unstrapped the bundle that +rested on his back, and took off the snowshoes that had caused his +approach over the snow to appear so like a lumbering animal's. +Flinging all these on the floor, he went swiftly to Marion's side, and +knelt there. + +"Sick?" he asked. + +She did not answer, but stared at him, and smiled. + +"Listen!" she whispered. "Somebody--coming!" + +Pete stood up, and looked at Haig. + +"How long like this?" he asked. + +"I forget. Three or four days." + +"You well?" + +"Yes," Haig answered weakly. + +Pete came closer, and pointed to the leg that Haig kept thrust stiffly +out before him. + +"Broke?" + +"Yes." + +"How long?" + +"Six weeks." + +The Indian asked no more questions just then, but hastened to open his +pack. First he found a bottle of whisky, and made Haig take a long +drink. Pete believed in two remedies for all human ills. He had a brew +of herbs that he had inherited from his tribal ancestors, his sole +inheritance besides his iron body. This brew was good for fevers; and +whisky was good for everything else. Having doctored Haig with the +whisky, he now turned to Marion with the brew. From a flask he poured +some of the dark brown liquid into a cup, let it come just to a boil +among the embers of the fire, and when it had cooled a little placed +it to Marion's lips. It was bitter, and she tried to draw away from +it, but Pete forced her gently to drain the cup. + +Whatever the brew might be worth, the whisky certainly was efficacious. +Haig sat erect, and began hurling questions at the Indian. + +"How did you get in here--in God's name?" was the first. + +"Black Lake country." + +"But how did you get in there?" + +"Simpson's Pass." + +Haig stared at him. He knew that to reach Simpson's Pass the Indian +must have gone far south below the canyon of the Big Bear, made a wide +detour over the lower range, and ascended to the Pass around the +shoulder of Big Bear Mountain. He had never heard of the Pass being +crossed in winter, and it was almost unbelievable. + +"But the snow!" he exclaimed. + +Pete pointed to the snowshoes. + +"But the Pass doesn't let into the Black Lake country," said Haig. +"There's another range of mountains." + +"Yes. I come over them." + +"How long did it take you?" + +"I been four weeks. But most of time looking in forest down there." + +"But how did you find us?" + +The Indian drew from his pocket a ragged and soiled piece of paper, +and spread it out on the floor. It was a crude map, with Paradise Park +outlined at one side, and at the other a labyrinth of lines and stars +and crosses. The stars were peaks, the crosses were foothills, and the +lines were creeks and valleys. Through the maze ran one heavier line +that indicated the trail through the Black Lake country up to the +cliff at the back of Thunder Mountain. + +"Old Parker made it," said Pete. + +"Tell me all!" commanded Haig. "But wait!" He pointed to Marion. + +Marion's babbling had slowly subsided, and ceased. Pete rose and went +to her noiselessly on his moccasined feet; and after looking at her a +moment stepped cautiously back. + +"She quiet now. Sleep soon," he said. + +And it was so. The next time he slipped over to her, the girl's eyes +were closed, and soon she had sunk into a profound slumber from which +she did not awake until late the next morning. + +Meanwhile Pete took up his story. Smythe had delivered Marion's +message, and had told them what he feared. Claire's knowledge of the +state of Marion's heart and mind enabled her to guess the worst, but +Seth scouted the idea of her trying to reach the top of Thunder +Mountain, or of Murray permitting her to try it. So two days were lost +before the alarm was sounded by Murray, who, after two attempts to +reach the top of the mountain, had given up and ridden to the Park for +help. + +The whole valley responded to the call, and the most desperate efforts +were made to reach the plateau, but the storms that Haig and Marion +had heard in their sheltered gulch were of such fury and continuity +that the hardiest of the ranchmen were unable to prevail against them. +Huntington, half-crazed by the thought of the two days he had allowed +to be lost, had gone farther than any of the others, and had been +rescued with difficulty by some of his neighbors, who found him lying +senseless at the foot of the ascent to the Devil's Chair, where the +wind had hurled him back down the slope. Smythe was among those who +saved him, for the little tutor had let the last stage go without him, +and was one of the most reckless in the attacks on the mountain. + +All these efforts having failed, and the winter having fallen with +exceptional suddenness and severity, even. Huntington was forced to +accept the general opinion that nothing more could be done; that they +could only wait for summer, when they could go to the mountain top and +bring back Marion's body--and doubtless Haig's too. And so, said +Huntington, the feud was ended. + +One person alone in the Park refused to admit all this. Pete was +forced indeed to admit it in theory, but he was resolved to prove it +or disprove it on his own account. He had studied Thunder Mountain +from the ridge above the ranch house all that day of Sunnysides' +escape, and the next. And he remembered now that a period of calm had +followed the storm on that second day. If Haig or Marion, or both of +them, had by chance reached the flat top in that interval, they might +have crossed, and might be now somewhere in the forests on the other +side. + +He went to Parker, talked with him long about the character of the +Black Lake country, induced him to draw the crude map, and then +visited Seth and Claire. Seth shook his head gloomily, but Claire +eagerly proceeded to assemble enough supplies to have loaded down a +pack horse. There followed a pitifully comical struggle with her +before her "first aid" was reduced to what Pete could carry in his +canvas knapsack,--a small roll of underwear, needles and thread, +bandages and a packet of household medicines in addition to Pete's own +selection of a strip of bacon, a dozen onions, two score of vegetable +soup tablets, two cans of condensed milk, small quantities of coffee +and tea, salt and pepper, two cakes of soap and (especially insisted +on by Pete) a plug of black tobacco and a pipe. + +All these supplies Pete had saved untouched, living himself on game +shot on the long journey. For nearly five weeks he had struggled +against unbelievable hardships, fighting like primitive man against +the fiercest enmity of nature; had searched the whole Black Lake +country; and that day, slowly following the direction of the trail up +through the narrowing gulch among the tree tops, the smell of smoke +was brought to his nostrils on the wind, and he traced it along the +foot of the cliff. + +"But did you really expect to find us alive?" asked Haig. + +"No." + +"Then why did you do all this?" + +"All I could do. Indian never forgets." + +Thereupon he brought out Haig's pipe and his own, and they smoked over +it in silence, late into the night. + +Marion awoke the next morning with another look in her eyes. Her fever +was still high, but she was no longer delirious. Too feeble to ask +questions, she only smiled, and took obediently the remainder of the +potion that Pete poured from his flask and heated in the tin-cup among +the embers. On her wakening again it was seen that the fever was +broken. But life in her was only a tiny flame, at times the merest +spark that every gust of wind through the cavern threatened to +extinguish. Hour after hour Haig and the Indian watched it, the one in +such anguish as the repentant murderer suffers as he kneels over the +poor victim of his rage, the other in stolid resignation, seeing that +perhaps he had come too late. + +But the spark was the bravest little spark in the world; and it did +not go out. In time Pete dared to give Marion a little weakened milk; +and then, when she responded to the milk, a few sips of soup that was +scarcely thicker than water. And thus from day to day they nursed her +back to some recognizable shadow of what she had been two months +before. + +There came an evening when they sat down to a veritable feast. Haig +had stubbornly refused to taste any of the delicacies in Pete's store, +excepting salt and pepper. Besides, with seasoning, the venison was no +longer quite repugnant to his palate; and he and the Indian did very +well on that until the feast was spread. And it was a feast +remembered. There was soup, to begin with, drunk from the two cups +they now possessed; then a rabbit stew, seasoned with SALT AND PEPPER, +and flavored with an ONION; and black coffee (very black indeed, to be +quite exact). Then Haig's and Pete's pipes were lighted; and the +Indian must tell them again the story of the rescue; and let the wind +howl its savagest! + +"Poor Claire!" said Marion, with a tremulous little laugh, when Pete +told her how the knapsack was packed. + +And Haig looked across at her dizzily, as if the fumes of the strong +tobacco had gone to his head. + + * * * * * + +Their situation was still miserable enough, but the Indian contrived +to make it less unendurable. He knew some knacks of cookery that +availed to make their venison and rabbit palatable; and the tea and +coffee cheered them beyond all possibility of expression. No longer +required to toil; with clean underwear; with soap for her blackened +face and hands, Marion recovered her strength, or much of it, with +amazing swiftness. Pete made a rough coat and even a skirt for her of +deerskin. The coat was of double thickness, and very warm indeed, and +so she gave back to Haig the remnant of the leather coat she had been +wearing, which was now needed to cover his ragged corduroy. Then came +moccasins, and better crutches for Haig; and so they settled down with +new courage for what they thought would be a long wait through the +implacable winter. + +Haig kept his secret, or supposed he was keeping it. Marion did not +indeed remember how he had taken her in his arms in her delirium; +rather, if there was a faint but insistent recollection of the embrace +it was intangible and unreal. She had dreamed so often of that +longed-for embrace that the reality was inseparable from the imagined. +Nor was she aware of the revelation that had come to Haig, as if a +dazzling light had broken through the walls of the cavern. But though +he might keep his secret he could not conceal from her the change that +had come over him, the tenderness and wonder and humility that had +succeeded his hardness and scepticism and belligerency. She detected +that alteration in every look he gave her, in every movement he made +in waiting upon her, in every tone of his speech, though the words +were the most commonplace. And in her great faith she was not +surprised. But she was thrilled. The knowledge ran through her veins +like a living fire, a better nourishment than food, a more potent cure +than any medicine. + +So the long days, not quite so long as they used to be, marched on. +Despite the skilful services of Pete they were still always cold, +always hungry, always weary for want of sleep, and always dirty and +unkempt. Then there came a day when Pete astonished them. He brought +in from the forest certain small limbs of tough wood, and began to +trim them and bend them into shapes that they were presently able to +recognize. Snowshoes! + +"You don't mean--Can we do it?" cried Haig incredulously. + +"Can't stay here," was Pete's short reply. + +True; they could not stay there; it was just what Haig had been +thinking, or trying to avoid thinking. But how would Marion be able to +endure that terrible journey over Simpson's Pass? For her part she +said nothing, but her eyes met Philip's; she reached her hand to him, +and he clasped it tightly. + +Three weeks after Pete's arrival he began gradually to inure Haig and +Marion to living and moving in the snow. He taught them to walk on +snowshoes, to climb steep slopes on them, to pick their way among the +trees. There were countless falls in deep drifts, and headlong +plunges, and ungraceful wallowings in the snow. But they knew their +lives depended on these labors, and they were even able to laugh at +some of their awkward performances. These exercises were, moreover, +very good for them. Ill-nourished though they were, the natural color +crept back into their cheeks, the blood flowed briskly again, through +their chilled veins, their muscles were strengthened by their +struggles with the winds and the snow that still came on with +unremitted vigor. Then Pete went a step farther in the preparations +for the crucial test. Not only must they spend the greater part of +the day outside the cave, but they must sleep, or try to sleep, a few +hours every night in the snow, wrapped in their blankets, in holes +scooped out under the lee of a snowbank, while the Indian stood guard +nearby. + +It was near the end of December when Pete thought his charges had +become sufficiently hardened to undertake the long journey. The +weather, if it had not moderated (it would not begin to moderate there +until long after spring had brought out the flowers in the distant +Park), had settled a little after its first fury. The storms came with +less frequency, and the snow had assumed a certain stability with the +steadily added weight. Both Marion and Haig bad mastered their +snowshoes, and were able to travel slowly after Pete. Moreover, all +the delicacies that Pete had brought had been consumed, despite their +most careful husbanding, and even the meager supply of salt and pepper +would soon be exhausted, leaving only the unseasoned venison of odious +memory. + +The night before the day set for their departure, Pete broiled strips +of venison sufficient for a week or more, and stowed them in his +knapsack. At dawn they were up, and eagerly making the final +preparations. Haig and Marion, in their impatience, would have eaten +nothing, but the Indian, true to his tribal habit of filling the +stomach before a march, insisted that breakfast should be a methodical +and leisurely business. From some recess he drew the last soup tablet, +the last onion, and the last of the ground coffee, which he had +clandestinely saved against this great event. The feast with which +they had celebrated Marion's recovery was now repeated in celebration +of their farewell to the cave,--the soup, the rabbit stew and the +black coffee. + +Then, when Pete had fastened their snowshoes securely on their +moccasined feet, and had gone out to trample down the fresh snow on +the platform before the cave, Haig and Marion stood together for a +last look upon the scene of their sufferings. They looked at the dying +fire, at the flattened beds of boughs, at the long row of notches on +the wall, at the crutches lying among the firewood, at crumpled and +ragged boots and bits of worn-out clothing. + +"Good-by--you!" cried Marion, laughing tremulously, very near to +tears. + +"Yes, good-by!" said Haig. + +That cave--what had it not meant for him! There was his Valley of the +Shadow, into which he had again descended to seek and find the better +part of him that he had left there long ago. + +"Go on out, please!" he said presently. "I'll come in a minute." + +She looked at him curiously, but obeyed. Haig waited till she had +gone, and then shuffled clumsily on his snowshoes across the floor to +where, beyond the fire, lay one of Marion's boots. It was a torn and +misshapen thing, the sole worn through, the leather curled up from the +open toe. He picked it up hastily, and with a swift glance at the +mouth of the cavern, thrust it into an inside pocket of his leather +coat. + + * * * * * + +It was a wonderful, thrilling, terrifying journey, filled with +hardships and perils. Caution and sheer toil of travel held them to +slow progress. They went through vast forests, among the very tops of +the tall pines; they climbed wide, bare slopes where the winds had +almost stripped the snow from the gaunt rocks; they descended into +sheltered valleys where the deer went scurrying at their approach; +they crossed deep gulches packed half-full of blown and drifted snow; +they passed close to the edges of precipices where a false step would +have sent them whirling down into white abysses spiked with pines. +Storms overtook them, and forced them to remain many hours in such +shelter as they could find. Sometimes they slept under overhanging +rocks with a fire blazing at their feet, but more often the night was +spent in burrows dug in the snow. Their supply of venison ran out, and +a day was lost while Pete hunted and killed a deer, and cooked strips +of its flesh, to be seasoned with the very last of their salt and +pepper, and kept in his knapsack. But even Marion did not lose courage +or once falter, though many times her heart was in her mouth and a +cold sweat on her forehead as they passed some formidable and +terrifying obstacle. + +At length, on a bright and glittering day, when it seemed the storms +had finally abandoned their enmity, they climbed slowly up the long +slopes to Simpson's Pass, and stood at noon high above a wide and +wonderful world of snow, with white mountains succeeding one another, +range on range, as far as their eyes could reach before them and +behind. And that afternoon, as they toiled around the shoulder of Big +Bear Mountain, they stopped and gazed,--Marion with tears streaming +down her cheeks, and Haig with his hands clenched tightly at his +sides. For there, still far away below them, but _there_ beyond all +mistake, lay Paradise Park, very white and still and glittering in the +sun; and off at the right was Thunder Mountain, squatting among the +silver peaks, its sullen head half hidden by gray-black clouds. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +GHOSTS + + +The lamp had not been lighted in the sitting-room at Huntington's, but +the pitch log blazing in the great fireplace reddened the farthest +corners of the room, and flushed the somber faces of Seth and Claire. +Their habit, in these days of grief, was to sit the winter evenings +through almost in silence, their self-reproaches long since spent, +their hopes turned to ashes, which Claire alone tried sometimes to fan +into a glow. They had eaten their supper before twilight, without +speech, and then, as always, waited wearily for sleep. + +"It will be three months and two weeks to-morrow," she said, without +looking away from the fire. + +"Yes," answered Huntington. + +"Isn't it possible she may have reached--" + +"It's no use, Claire, thinking such things." + +"But Pete! He hasn't come back, and maybe that means--" + +She did not even finish the sentence, which simply faded away on her +lips, a useless and foolish conjecture. + +Another long silence followed. Seth's cigarette went out, and hung +dead from his bearded lips, while he stared gloomily into the blaze. +He sat with his back toward the front door. Claire, near a corner of +the big stone chimney, leaned forward, her head inclined to one side, +the cheek resting on her open hand, the elbow on her knee. Her eyes, +which had been lifted from their long gazing at the fire at the moment +she addressed her husband, were fixed on vacancy, looking past +Huntington toward the door that led out upon the veranda, where the +rising wind tossed little whirls of snow and dead leaves from the +flower garden. She was torturing herself with a conjured vision of a +wild, high place among snowbound rocks, in the midst of which a +slender figure was slowly sinking down, and a white and stricken face +was turned toward her. This was the vision that had become for her the +settled picture of Marion's fate, a picture that was burned into her +brain by many, many hours of imagining, day and night. + +The wind was howling around the ranch house, wailing among the gables, +shrieking across the chimney top. It rattled at the door, as if to +fling it open with sudden violence. And what was that? A footstep on +the veranda? She shivered; it was only her shaken nerves again! Then +came another rattle at the door. It moved. It _was_ flung open. And +there was the figure of her dream, but strangely and fantastically +clad; and with a face that glowed, and lips that were parted in a +smile. + +For a moment Claire did not move. Then slowly she lifted her head; her +eyes grew round and staring, her mouth opened. Seth caught the look; +it was one he had seen many times before. + +"Claire!" he cried. "Stop that!" + +His voice, perhaps, served to break the spell. Claire leaped to her +feet. And the next instant there was a voice from the doorway. + +"Hello!" said Marion cheerily, in a "good evening" kind of tone, as +if she had returned from the post-office. + +Huntington bounded from his chair, and whirled around with an +oath,--one oath surely that was forgiven him. But past him, with a +scream dashed Claire. + +"Marion!" she shrieked. + +"Marion!" bellowed Seth. + +And then the two women were in each other's arms, and Seth grabbed one +of Marion's hands, and the air was filled with hysterical cries and +mighty, spluttered expletives. Then silence fell, while Claire and +Marion wept without restraint, and Huntington searched for his +handkerchief without finding it, and strode across the room and back, +pounding one clenched hand into the palm of the other. But Marion +presently tore herself out of Claire's embrace, and turned to grab an +arm of Pete, who stood just outside the doorway, through which the +wind unheeded was flinging snow and leaves into the room. + +"Here he is!" cried Marion. "He did it!" + +Claire promptly threw her arms around the Indian's neck, or as nearly +around as she could reach, and stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his +leathery cheek. Huntington too leaped on him, seizing his shoulder and +hand, and dragging him farther into the room. Then he broke away, and +ran for a bottle; and the two men clicked glasses and drank in +silence. And two big chairs were drawn close to the fire for Pete and +Marion; and while Claire sat crying softly, and Huntington, between +"damns" and "hells," wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and +Pete sat impressive, Marion quickly narrated the chief incidents of +her pursuit of Haig, their long imprisonment, and the rescue. + +"But Haig! Where's he?" asked Huntington. + +"He left us at the junction," answered Marion. + +On that a moment of silence fell. Something in Marion's face told even +Huntington to keep still. But Claire, seeing it, was secretly, +wickedly, triumphantly glad. A very practical thought, however, came +to her in time to prevent embarrassment, and Seth was sent bustling +into the kitchen to relight the fire in the range. The cook had gone +to bed, but Claire would get supper for them; for Pete must stay, she +insisted. But at this the Indian rose, and said he must go to Haig, +who had told him to hurry back for supper with him in the cottage. + +"Well, then, Pete," said Huntington from the door of the kitchen, +"you'll have another drink, anyhow. And you'll come up to-morrow to +tell us how you found them, won't you?" + +Pete promised; the whisky was solemnly drunk again; and the three +others followed him to the door. + +"But you must have a horse!" said Huntington. + +So he jumped past him, and ran to the stable, bellowing for Williams. + +"Now take off your coat, Marion!" cried Claire. + +"No. Not here," said Marion. "You'll see why." + +They waited before the blazing log for Huntington to return, whereupon +he was sent to build a fire in Marion's room. When it was crackling +finely, Marion, removed her deerskin coat and skirt. Claire stared at +her, gasping; and then sank down on the bed in another fit of weeping. +For Marion stood before her in rags and dirt. + +"Oh, but you should have seen me the day Pete came!" cried Marion, +with a pathetic little laugh. "I've actually got some flesh on my +bones now." + +Indescribable luxuries followed: a hot bath, wonderful clean garments, +and Claire's happy fingers combing the tangles out of the tawny hair. + +"But I'll never be really and truly clean again, Claire!" cried Marion +ruefully, holding out her hands. + +Claire clasped them tenderly, while Marion, on a sudden thought, +related to her Haig's speech about baths; and they laughed together. + +"You've so many things to tell me," said Claire, with a curiosity she +could not quite repress. + +"Yes," answered Marion, blushing. + +It was nearly midnight when they sat down to supper, but none of them +cared for time. Marion was not sleepy. She and Haig and Pete had slept +well in a deserted cabin the last night of their journey, before a +huge fire, in circumstances positively pleasant in comparison with +what they had passed through. But she was hungry. As she never +expected to be really and truly clean again, she doubted that she +should ever get enough to eat. Claire did the best she could on that +score, and that was something. There was chicken with cream gravy; and +potatoes, baked in their skins, and seasoned with butter and salt and +paprika; and three kinds of jelly to be spread on buttered toast; and +angel cake. In the midst of the feast there were steps on the veranda, +and a knock on the door; and Curly appeared, bearing two bottles of +champagne. + +"Mr. Haig says you're all to drink Pete's health, an' he ought to live +to be a hundred," said Curly, grinning, and gazing in wonderment at +Marion, whose exploit had caused her to assume somewhat the nature of +a goddess in his simple mind. + +When the door had closed on Curly, Huntington stood for a moment +awkwardly holding the bottles, an expression almost of consternation +on his face. He had once made some remarks about Haig's champagne. But +he had the sense not to act the part of a skeleton at the feast. +Pete's health was drunk by all; and might he live to be a hundred! + +In another hour Marion was in bed, in a real bed, in her own pink +room, between sweet, clean sheets, and warm again at last, but +shivering in sheer excess of comfort, and crying a little perhaps from +overwhelming joy. For she knew in her heart--something she could not +yet tell even Claire. + + * * * * * + +Bill Craven was mending a bridle by the light of a smoky lantern in +the stable, when he saw a ghost. It just opened the door, and walked +in, and said, "How are you, Bill?" Craven fell backward off his stool, +then leaped to his feet with a yell that caused a commotion among the +barn swallows under the eaves, and brought Farrish and Curly tumbling +down the ladder from the loft. Thereupon discipline, for which Haig +had always been rather a stickler, suffered a bad half hour. They had +given him up for lost; and had found on comparing experiences that +each of them had many reasons for counting that loss his own. In the +days following the attempts to rescue Miss Gaylord, these three had +gone about the Park with chips on their shoulders, inviting any +outspoken citizen to say to them anything that was not strictly +proper and complimentary about Haig. So now, though the words were few +after the first noisy demonstration, they were the kind of words that +are worth hearing, from man to man. + +Haig and Bill Craven presently compared notes in the matter of +"busted" legs. Bill's had mended much sooner than Haig's, which was +quite easily understood, considering the great difference in their +circumstances. Curly had "nigh killed" the sorrels, getting the doctor +for Craven, but they were all right now. "Fat and sassy," Curly +added. + +"I'll take some of that out of them, to-morrow," said Haig. "I'll want +the sleigh, Farrish. Please look after it in the morning." + +Then, seeing their impatience, he told them of Sunnysides' final +escape, and of all the events that followed--as much as was good for +them to know. + +"But where's Pete?" asked Craven. + +"He went to Huntington's with Miss Gaylord. He'll be along soon." + +"Well, jest wait till we git our hands on that damned Indian!" cried +Bill. "Eh, men?" + +It was evident that there would be a considerable disturbance in the +barn on Pete's arrival. + +A few minutes later Haig had his surprise. On entering the cottage he +first encountered Slim Jim in the outer room. Perhaps Jim's face +turned a trifle yellower, perhaps his thin legs trembled a little +under the sky-blue trousers; but that was about all, except the light +that flickered an instant in his eyes. + +"Glad you back!" he said simply. "Want supper?" + +"Want supper! Why, you scrawny, evil-eyed heathen! Want supper! I want +everything you've got to eat, and everything you haven't got, and +don't you tell me there's 'vellee lil' either, or I'll break every +bone in your body. And be quick about it too!" + +Jim hurried into the kitchen with so much of a departure from his +oriental poise that the first pan he picked up fell to the floor with +a clatter. That was the most eloquent testimonial he could have given, +unless it was the supper that was ready for Haig in an hour--and no +"velle lil" supper at that--to his participation in the general +rejoicing. + +Haig, meanwhile, opened the inner door, stepped into the library-bedroom, +and halted dead still on the threshold. At his entrance, a tall, thin +young man, with a very pale face, rose like an automaton and stared at +him. It was a question which of the two was the more amazed. + +"Thursby!" cried Haig, recovering the more quickly. + +"Haig!" + +"Where did you come from?" + +"From the other side of the world. And you?" + +"From the very bowels of the earth, man!" + +They walked slowly toward each other until they met, and clasped +hands. + +"You found him?" asked Haig, searching the other's face. + +"In Singapore." + +"And then?" + +"He's dead." + +"And she?" + +"I've sent her back to her people in Devonshire." + +Haig gripped hard the hand that was still clasped in his own, and +there was a moment of silence. + +"Well," said Haig, "we'll have a nip of whisky, and then--You've come +back to take your ranch, of course." + +"I _came_ back for that, but I can't figure out that it's mine now." + +"How's that?" asked Haig, pouring out the drinks. + +"I left three hundred head of cattle, and now I learn there are +thirteen hundred head, almost." + +"Don't let that worry you. I've sold enough of the increase to bring +back all the money they cost me. So we're quits." + +"No." + +"Why not?" + +"Be sensible, Haig. First thing, why did you do it?" + +"For the fun of it, partly." + +"And after that?" + +"Well, your fine ranch here wasn't making much money, and I thought +you'd need a good deal, perhaps, before you got through with +your--affair." + +"And yet you say we're quits!" + +"I'm satisfied." + +"But I'm not. You'll take a half interest, and we'll go partners." + +"No." + +"I say yes," persisted Thursby. "But I'm forgetting to ask questions. +How the devil did you get back?" + +"I will a tale unfold will harrow up thy bones--and the rest of it," +replied Haig, laughing. "But first: when did you arrive?" + +"By the last stage in." + +"And what have you told them--my pleasant neighbors?" + +"Nothing. But they have the impression that I came for the final +payment on the ranch, and that I remained because you were lost in the +mountains." + +"Good. Now, old man, I'll tell you how you can repay me in full for +anything you may think I've done for you." + +"Go on!" + +"Are you ready to assume the responsibility for my acts? I mean in the +matter of the land and cattle? The rest is still my affair." + +"Most certainly." + +"Well, then. I've very special reasons for needing peace with +Huntington." + +Thursby looked at him curiously. This from Philip Haig! + +"And you want me to--" + +"Don't misunderstand me. I've gone up there before, and I'm going +again to-morrow. But I want to give Huntington a chance. So if you'll +go to his house to-morrow morning, and tell him that I've finished, +that the ranch is not mine, and--" + +"But the ranch is yours--or half yours." + +"Never mind about that now. We'll talk it over later. Just tell +Huntington that the ranch is not mine, and never has been, and--whatever +else you like. Then say to him that if he still wants to fight me I'll +meet him anywhere, and we'll settle it. In any event, you will tell +him, I'm coming to his place to-morrow afternoon, and I'll have no +gun." + +"I see." + +"And you'll do it?" + +"Of course. With all my heart." + +And he made a thorough job of it. He told them--Huntington, Claire and +Marion--that he had been in great trouble. What that trouble was +concerned nobody but himself, but it was enough to send him around the +world, reckless of everything but the immediate object of his pursuit. +Philip Haig, an old friend, had volunteered to look after his ranch +for him, and to provide him with money when he needed it. So, if Haig +had seemed too aggressive and selfish in his methods, all that he had +done had been done in a spirit of--he might say a spirit that was +almost quixotic. And having done all this, increasing Thursby's +holdings of cattle four times, Haig refused to accept anything for his +time and labor, and insisted that their account was closed. + +Marion had known nothing of all this, save for the hints she had +received from Smythe, following the conversation overheard by him. +Philip had told her nothing of it in recounting his adventures. With +glistening eyes she looked from Claire to Huntington, where they sat +open-mouthed, and was thrilled with pride and triumph. Claire at +length turned, and looked at her, and smiled. As for Huntington, he +was simply (as he explained afterwards, seeking to justify his ready +acquiescence) flabbergasted. + +"This has been a very bitter business, Thursby," he said. "It's cost +me a lot of cattle and money, and I'll not take back a thing I've said +about Haig's grabbing everything in sight, and ruining his neighbors. +But I will say, after what you've told me, that--damn it, Thursby! he +is a man." + +"He's ready to fight with you or talk with you, as you wish." + +Huntingdon eyed him suspiciously. + +"Did Haig say that?" he demanded. + +"He certainly did." + +"Then tell him, if he's on the square, it'll be talk." + +Claire, ignoring Thursby's presence, ran and snuggled close to Seth, +while he put his arm around her. But it was at Marion, _to_ Marion, +that Seth looked, seeking the approval that he had never before been +able to get from her. Their eyes met, and she nodded, smiling. + +"Very well!" said Thursby. "He's coming to see you this afternoon." + +"What?" cried Huntington. + +"He's coming this afternoon. And he wished me to say explicitly that +he will have no gun." + +To Huntington this seemed almost incredible. He was heartily sick of +the warfare, and glad of any way out of it that would not be too +humiliating to himself. But Haig was coming to him; and this meant, +surely, that something had occurred to his enemy that would make the +event easy for himself, if not quite free from embarrassment. He +looked again at Marion; and at last, seeing her radiant countenance, +he understood that this was her achievement, that it was for her Haig +would be coming unarmed to the house of his bitter foe that +afternoon. + +"I'm ready," he said to Thursby, with an elation he was only partly +able to conceal. + +Smythe was the next visitor, arriving in a state of such contrition +that Marion pitied him. His jaunty air was gone. He was quite unable +to respond to Marion's gentle jesting, seeing that her cheeks were +still sunken and pale, that the body whose graces he had so much +admired was now palpably thin under her loose clothing. He had blamed +himself bitterly for the disaster that had overtaken her, and his +sufferings had been real and lasting. + +"If I'd been half a man I'd never have let you go on alone that day," +he said after she had greeted him brightly, giving him both her +hands. + +"Oh, indeed!" retorted Marion. "And what would you have done?" + +"Gone with you." + +"But I sent you back." + +"I was a fool!" + +"A fool to do as I told you, Mr. Smythe?" she demanded archly. + +"Yes. You didn't know what you were doing." + +"But I did know what I was doing." + +This come with such depth of feeling that he knew he would no longer +be able to bring her news of Philip Haig. + +"Then I'm glad," he said simply. + +Presently she told him her story; but much was omitted, especially the +keenest of her sufferings, since remorse still haunted Smythe's solemn +eyes. + +"And what have you been doing?" she asked. + +"Trying to read and study, but it's been no use." + +"And you've lost a year in your career!" + +"That's nothing. I can make it up, if you've forgiven me." She gave +him her hand again. + +"There's nothing to forgive!" she answered warmly. "You've been a good +friend to me. I owe you--more than you know--more than I can tell +you--now!" + +On that she rose hurriedly, and went to her room for--a handkerchief. +It was quite ten minutes before she returned to finish their talk, and +to tell him that he must come to see her often through the long months +of winter that remained. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE LAMP RELIGHTED + + +Marion, at the window, was the first to see him; and what she saw +caused her to clutch at her throat to stifle a cry. He was not on +horseback, though the roads were quite passable, but in a sleigh; and +there was a jingle of sleigh bells on the frosty air. He had come with +the sorrels--for her--at last! + +She opened the door for him, giving him her hand--was it possible?--a +little shyly. Huntington, at Haig's entrance, rose from his chair +before the fire; and Claire too, clinging to the chimney, scarce able +to believe that there would not be such another scene as that of one +evening long ago. + +Silence, a little awkward for all of them, followed Marion's greeting, +while the two men stood looking at each other. Then Haig walked direct +to Huntington, frankly smiling. + +"How are you, Huntington? And Mrs. Huntington?" he was saying +quietly. + +"All well," replied Huntington, rather stiffly, meaning to be very +reserved in this business. + +Claire inclined her head without speaking. Her blue eyes were round, +her lips parted, and something of the old terror showed in her face, +though she knew very well why Haig was there. + +"Thursby has told you?" asked Haig. + +"Yes," was Huntingdon's answer, still putting everything up to his +enemy. + +"Well then, Huntington, since you'll deal with Thursby now, I thought +we might as well ask each other a few questions, and give straight +answers." + +"I'm ready," said Huntington gruffly. + +"Thank you. First, did you drive that bunch of cattle off the cliff?" + +"No. But did you scatter those twenty head of mine?" + +"No. Both mere accidents undoubtedly. Second, did you advise setting +an ambush for me?" + +"No. That was--no matter who. I talked them out of it, and was sorry +for it afterwards." + +"But you did say you'd drive me out of the Park." + +"Yes, and I'd have done it any way short of--" + +"Sending me out in a coffin! But we all lost our tempers, of course." + +"And with good reason on our side," retorted Huntington stoutly. + +"Perhaps. But I'll ask you to remember that everything I did was open +and aboveboard. If any of your cattle strayed, if any of _your_ fences +were cut, I had nothing to do with it." + +"I believe you--now, after what Thursby's told me." + +"Thank you. We make progress. But there are two things more. Who cut +the fence of my winter pasture?" + +For a moment Huntington was silent, his face reddening. + +"I did that," he replied at length, half defiantly, but in great +confusion. + +"But why? There was nothing to be gained by that. There were no cattle +in the pasture or near it." + +Huntington hesitated, shifting his weight uneasily from his left foot +to his right, and back again to the left. Then he looked at Marion, +saw the appeal in her eyes, and plunged. + +"I wanted to make you angry." + +"To make me angry?" + +"To make you do something reckless." + +Haig studied him, and saw that he was dealing with a man who was in +some respects, and for all his physical strength, a boy--a child. He +felt his anger rising, but put it down resolutely. + +"That was very foolish, Huntington!" he said, with some sharpness. "It +certainly made me furious, as you saw later at the post-office." + +"But you were wrong to call me a liar and a thief. And that's +something you've got to--" + +"Got to what?" demanded Haig quickly. + +Huntington did not answer at once. Claire's face, already as pale as +it could well be, became drawn and ashen, while Marion, seeing the +danger, unconsciously took a step forward, as if to throw herself +between the two men. For some tense seconds Huntington and Haig faced +each other belligerently. + +"Got to what, Huntington?" repeated Haig. "There's nothing I've _got_ +to do." + +Huntington had not meant the "got" in the sense in which it was taken +by Haig. He had begun to say, "You've got to admit that was pretty +hard." But his unfortunate pause on the uncompleted sentence had +justified Haig in putting the worst possible construction on the +objectionable phrase. And now Huntington could not finish it as he had +intended, without seeming to back down, or weaken. Nor could he afford +to drop the mischievous word for another. In his desperation he took +the boldest course, and made a more aggressive speech by far than any +he had rehearsed for the occasion, and forgotten. + +"You've got to take that back!" he blurted out. + +It was Haig's turn now to ponder deeply. His first impulse was to tell +Huntington to go to the devil, and thereupon to walk out of the house. +But he had come there to make peace; and he bethought himself in time +that to give way to anger would only be to allow Huntington the first +victory he had ever had over him. Besides--he turned toward Marion, +and saw her face distorted with apprehension. That decided the issue. + +"All in good time, Huntington," he said, with a smile. "Your actions +certainly justified everything I said. What have you to say about your +scheme to take my horse?" + +Huntington groped in vain for one of the crushing retorts that he had +valiantly prepared for this meeting. Then he caught Marion's eye +again. + +"That was a mistake," he said. "But I'm no thief and no liar." + +"I grant you're honest enough, Huntington, when you stop to think. As +for Sunnysides, he's settled that business for himself. And if you'll +give me a straightforward answer on one more point, I'll acquit you of +being a liar." + +"What's that?" + +"You killed my bull, didn't you?" + +"Yes, I did! But it was a question of yours or mine. They were +fighting, and mine was getting the worst of it." + +"And it never occurred to you to let the best one win?" + +"No. I was angry. It was the day that--" He caught himself, and looked +in fresh alarm at Marion. + +"The day that--" Haig prompted. + +"No matter. I was angry. I'll pay you what the bull was worth." + +"No. Settle that with Thursby. Is there anything more?" + +"Nothing except the cause of the whole trouble. You took more than +your share." + +"We might talk all day and all night about that, and come to no +understanding. But I'll tell you what I've done. I've suggested to +Thursby that he and you and the rest of them go into a pool. There's +enough pasture for all of you if--" + +"That's an idea!" cried Huntington. "What does Thursby say?" + +"He's willing. He doesn't like trouble as I--did. He'll even sell off +some of his stock." + +Huntington was silent a moment, looking doubtfully at Haig. Then the +best of him rose to the occasion. + +"I told Thursby that--I hadn't anything to take back, but that--you're +a man, for all of it And if you--Damn it! There's my hand." + +"Done!" said Haig heartily. + +"Oh!" cried Claire, breaking away from the mantel, to which she clung +through all the interview, trembling between hope and fear. She +stepped up to Haig, her eyes shining through tears. + +"Mine too!" she said, offering her hand to him. + +But when it was all finished there was another awkward interval of +silence. For years of controversy and enmity are not so quickly +resolved into perfect peace. It was Haig who brought back a certain +ease to them. + +"Would you mind, Mrs. Huntington, if I asked Miss Gaylord to go for a +drive with me?" + +"Indeed, no!" + +"And if she took dinner with me? I'll bring her back early." + +"If Marion thinks--" + +But Marion, who had stood silent and anxious until then, did not reply +to Claire's glance of inquiry. She heard the last words as if in a +dream. But dreams were coming true these days; miracle followed +miracle. With a stifled cry she ran past them, and into her room. +There she sank down on the edge of the bed, and crossed her hands over +her breast, and stared at vacancy, her face burning, a mist before her +eyes. Weakness overcame her for a moment. Then she leaped to her feet, +dressed quickly for the drive, and went out befurred and radiant to +put her arms around Claire and kiss her. + +"You'll be welcome, Haig, if you want to--to come in any time," +Huntington was saying awkwardly. + +"I will!" replied Haig. + +Then Philip and Marion were gone, and Seth and Claire stood staring at +the door. + +"Oh, I'm so happy, Seth!" cried Claire at last, holding up her arms to +him. + +"Umph!" said Huntington, submitting to her ecstatic endearments. + + * * * * * + +The Park glittered in its robe of white; the sun shone with cold +brilliancy out of a steel-blue sky; the air was still and sparkling, +stinging their cheeks into a glow as they sped down the valley. Under +the runners of the sleigh the dry snow sang and crackled, and flew up +in a fine shower like dust of diamonds beneath the swift feet of the +sorrels. + +Haig gave Marion no chance to say a word while the sleigh went +swinging and bounding down the road, and the fields slipped past them +in a dazzling succession. When he was not leaning forward to urge the +sorrels to greater speed he was talking rapidly. He told her of the +scenes at the stable and the cottage on his return, elaborating the +description until Marion's laughter rang above the sounds of their +swift traveling. He was talking to keep up his courage, and to +postpone the speech that was in his heart and that now, after all, +when the time had come, filled him with doubts and fears, and seemed +to him the boldest thing he had ever set himself to do. For the first +time in ten years he was afraid, and doubtful of himself. + +The door of the cottage was thrown open by Slim Jim, in his newest and +brightest costume of blue silk. Marion smiled at him as she passed, +for she could not trust herself to speak; and then she was in that +room whence she had gone one day in utter dejection, praying for a +miracle. She stood for a few seconds looking around her, recognizing +all the familiar objects: the bed where Haig had undergone his +agonies, the table where the medicines had stood, the window and a +glimpse of the slope outside, now white instead of yellowing green. +There was a roaring fire, and tea things stood on the table. + +Silence enveloped them while Philip helped her with her wraps, and saw +her seated in an armchair before the fire. Despite the color that the +cold drive had brought into her cheeks, her features were still +pinched and pale. Many weeks would be required, a summer perhaps, to +restore her to what she had been before her terrible experience. And +yet she seemed to him more beautiful than ever. Watching her furtively +and anxiously, he endured a raging conflict of emotions, recalling +with a poignant feeling of shame all that he had said to her in that +room and elsewhere, in return for what she had done for him. An +impulse seized him to rush to the door and lock it, to turn on her +savagely, forbidding her to leave him as he had forbidden her to come +to him. For all the proofs he had had of her love and devotion seemed +inadequate to quiet the doubts he now confessed. He found speech +strangely difficult; he went out of the room twice to give quite +unnecessary instructions to Jim; and returned to busy himself +arranging things in the room that obviously needed no arranging. + +"Thursby was good enough to go somewhere to-day, and let us have the +cottage," he managed to say at length. "Do you mind if we are quite +alone?" + +"Philip!" she responded reproachfully. "How you talk!" + +"Then we'll have tea." + +He called the Chinaman, who brought in the steaming teapot, the hot +milk, and the buttered toast. Marion poured the tea in silence. They +drank, too, almost in silence, and nibbled at the toast, forgetful +that two days before, and for three dreadful months, tea and toast and +milk, served on a table laid with white linen, would have seemed like +a heavenly dispensation. Their very experience in the cave, which had +broken down so many barriers between them, seemed to have reared a new +one that neither understood. It was Marion who made a beginning to +scale that barrier. + +"You have made Claire very happy, Philip," she said. + +"That was easy," he answered. + +"But it was grand!" + +"And you too--a little?" he ventured. + +"You know that, Philip!" And then, a little mischievously: "Remember I +tried to make peace between you once." + +"And a fine job you made of it!" he retorted. + +Then they both laughed, and lapsed again into silence. But presently +Haig arose, went to a cabinet standing against the wall, and brought +back a faded photograph, which he handed to her. + +"My father," he said. + +She saw a face that seemed a little sad, but the kindest of eyes, with +a half serious twinkle in them. + +"The dear man!" she exclaimed softly. + +"We were great friends," he said. "We used to take long walks together +of a Sunday afternoon. He was a silent man, rather, and we did not +talk much, but--shall I tell you one thing he used to say to me, +often?" + +"Yes, Philip." + +"I believed it then. But things happened to make me think that father +was mistaken. For ten years I didn't believe it at all." + +"What was it, Philip?" + +"He used to say: 'My boy, there's only one thing in the world that's +worth while. And that is love.'" + +"Why, that's what Daddy always said, almost his very words!" she +cried, her eyes filling. + +"If I only knew--" he began. + +But she could endure no more. She rose swiftly to her feet, her eyes +devouring him, her arms stretched out. + +"Marion!" he cried, and leaped to catch her, and folded her close, as +he had clasped her in the cave. But now the arms that stole up around +his neck did not fall away weakly as before, but tightened, and held +him. + +A long time they remained thus, in a silence broken only by the +crackling of the flames, which they did not hear, and the wind rising +outside the cottage, for which they did not care. At length he put his +fingers under her chin, and raised her head so that he could look into +her eyes. + +"I believe it now!" he said. + +"It's true!" she answered, so low that he scarcely heard it. + +"I love you!" + +"I've loved you always!" + +Then even in her joy the recollection of all that she had come through +to this moment brought back that quivering of her chin, which had +become only too familiar to him in days past. His head sank toward +her, and their lips met. + +After a while he led her back to her chair, and knelt down to look up +at her. For there were other difficulties. He had nothing to give her, +he said; neither riches nor family nor honor nor any future of which +he could be assured. She stopped him, with a hand laid gently on his +lips. He held it there, kissing it. How it had toiled and hurt for +him, that little hand, still rough and scarred! + +"Can you ever forgive me?" he pleaded. + +"There's nothing to forgive, Philip. You did not understand." + +"There! You're treating me like a child again!" he protested, smiling +contentedly. + +"And once you scolded me dreadfully for that!" + +"But you were right. I've been a child; for ten years I've been a +child that thought it was a man." + +She did not reply to that, fearing to wound him. So another golden +silence fell between them, while he held her hands, stroking the hard, +cracked skin of them. After a while he brought a chair, and sat close +by her side, and told her all that had been left untold,--about his +boyhood, his ambitions, his ignorance and innocence, his work in Paris +and the future it seemed to hold for him; and then the girl on the +Seine boat, and what he saw one night in her apartment, and his +despair; his father's death, and the wanderings that followed; and +how the shy and introspective boy had become in one day a man of +violence and desperation, his heart full of hatred and bitterness. + +"And so I thought, Marion, that you were all alike; not alike in all +things, but the virtuous more dangerous than the vicious, because more +calculating and cold. You even--I thought you were the most dangerous +of all. I knew you were good, but I said your goodness was only +another form of selfishness, that you had been reared in luxury, and +taught to expect as your right many things you had never earned and +never could earn or deserve. I said--Wait, dear--I said that the man +who should marry you would be nothing but a beast of burden, a slave. +It was so difficult to believe you could be content with--" + +"With love!" she whispered. + +"But _can_ you?" he demanded, a ghost of the old incredulity rising in +spite of all. + +"I haven't told you about Robert," she said softly. "He has wealth, +and will have much more. He loves me. He offered me all, to do with it +as I wished. I've known him all my life--almost. He's good too, poor +Robert! But that day, after you'd told me that I must go back to New +York at once, I--" + +"Marion!" Haig cried. + +"No, listen! I told him that day that I could never marry him. He +couldn't understand--like you, Philip. He thought--dear Robert!--he +thought that money--I know it's what they want most--so many women. +But, Philip, dear heart! Don't you know that if a woman really loves +there's nothing she won't do--on her hands and knees--to the end of +the world? And if she has love, what else is there--that matters?" + +"I didn't know," he answered, "and I couldn't have believed it +until--that day in the cave, when you fell ill." + +He told her then of the revelation that had come to him, and how he +had taken her in his arms, in a fury of love and despair. + +"But I thought it was a dream!" she murmured. + +"No. I found you then--and myself--and thought it was too late!" + +Later, across the table, when Slim Jim had brought in the after-dinner +coffee, Haig looked at her gravely, and said: + +"May I become very practical for a minute, Marion?" + +"Yes, but not too practical." + +"Well, it's like this: I've got--" + +He paused to reach for her hand, to clasp it on the cloth. + +"_When_, Marion?" he asked, leaning toward her. + +"Oh, we must talk with Claire about that, mustn't we?" she protested, +blushing. Then softly: "She's the only mother I've got, you see. And +besides, there's no--" + +"No, not even a justice of the peace!" he said, laughing. "We might +strap on our old snowshoes, and go to Tellurium." + +"The idea!" + +"Well, listen. Do you know what I've been thinking?" + +She shook her head. + +"Paris." + +"Paris?" she repeated, a little startled, after all that he had +revealed to her. + +"Yes. I've got a little money in the bank in Tellurium, and I--" + +"You needn't be so proud of it!" she retorted. "So have I, in New +York. So you needn't think it's your money I'm after, sir!" + +They laughed, and then he had both her hands across the table. + +"It isn't much, I assure you," he went on. "But it will do for a while +in Paris. I mean--if you will go with me--to find my old master, or +another. You know, Marion, he said to me many times: 'You're going to +be a painter some day, _mon petit_; you're going to do big things, if +you'll work, work, work.' And so--" + +"You'll paint again!" she cried. "Oh, and I shall keep house for you! +You may not believe it, but I'm a splendid cook. But I've got to have +salt. You must earn enough to buy salt!" + +"I'll try." + +At that he rose, and went again to the cabinet from which he had +brought the photograph, and returned with his hands behind his back. + +"What do you suppose I've got for our mantelpiece--if we have such a +thing in our attic?" + +"What in the world, Philip?" + +"Shut your eyes, please!" + +She obeyed, and in the middle of the table he set down the tattered +and grimy little boot that he had carried away from the cave. + +"Now open!" he commanded. + +"Oh!" she cried, staring at the eloquent memento. + +Then she flung back her head, with a quick indrawing of her breath, +and looked up at him through a bright mist that gathered in her eyes. +And her face was radiant. + +He went quickly to her, and leaned down to kiss her hair, her eyes, +her lips; and her arms crept once more around his neck. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +SANGRE DE CRISTO + + +Late October in the San Luis, and the raw day near its close. Across +the melancholy flats the north wind's plaintive note rose at intervals +into a wailing cry. The thin grasses bent before it, the sagebrush +took on new and fantastic shapes, and danced like demons to the tune. +In gray-brown desolation the sand dunes rolled away to the foothills, +far and violet and dim. All was cold and bleak and forbidding, and the +sun itself appeared to be retiring eagerly from a scene so dreary and +disheartening. + +Then came magic. Sangre de Cristo, sharp against the eastern sky, +began to change its hue. A pink flush came into the gleaming white. It +grew deeper, darker, more vivid; it spread, and ran in richer and +richer tints along the range. Now it was rose, and now vermilion, and +at last a deep and living scarlet, staining the snowy slopes, and +flowing like new blood down the gulches and ravines. The foothills +caught the color, and the violets became purple and then red; the sand +dunes caught it, and their gray-browns were overlaid with crimson; the +flats too caught it, and the sagebrush bending low, and the grass +quivering in the wind were touched with some reflection of that +far-reaching hue. From the green along the river the color swept, +indefinable and dim at first, then by degrees intensified upon the +flats, across the sand dunes, among the hills until at length it was +passionate and deep and indescribable on the Sangre de Cristo peaks. + +A cowboy, searching for lost mavericks, rode slowly to the top of a +low sand dune, reined up his pony, and sat silent in the midst of this +solemn spectacle. He was not emotional. He was looking for calves, and +"sore" at not finding them, and hungry, and far from the X bar O; and +night was coming on. But he sat still in his saddle, removed his +flopping sombrero, and looked toward the east. Bareheaded, the wind +stinging his cheek and flinging dry sand in his eyes, he gazed and +wondered at the familiar but never negligible mystery of Sangre de +Cristo. + +But suddenly he rose in his stirrups, and shaded his eyes with his +hand to make out what it was that had caught his vision in that flood +of red among the dunes. Again it came, a flash of yellow in the red. +It was there, and gone. And then it came and lingered, as if inviting +him, like a jewel in the sand, or rather, like a challenge and a +taunt. + +"So you're back, are you?" cried Larkin, of the X bar O. "Well, you +c'n jest stay there. I'm done with you. You ain't no horse at all, +damn you! You're a devil! But I wonder--" + +Then Sunnysides was gone. At the same time the light paled on the +distant peaks. The wind blew colder, and swept the color off the +dunes. The flats darkened under the advancing shades of night. And +Larkin, muttering, put spurs to his pony, and galloped away toward +supper and bed. + +THE END + + + + +POPULAR COPYRIGHT NOVELS + +AT MODERATE PRICES + +Ask your dealer for a complete list of A. L. Burt Company's Popular +Copyright Fiction + + Abner Daniel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Will N. Harben + Adventures of Gerard . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A. Conan Doyle + Adventures of a Modest Man . . . . . . . . . . . . . . R. W. Chambers + Adventures of Sherlock Holmes . . . . . . . . . . . . A. Conan Doyle + After House, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Mary Roberts Rinehart + Ailsa Paige . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Robert W. Chambers + Alternative, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . George Barr McCutcheon + Alton of Somasco . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Harold Bindloss + Amateur Gentleman, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Jeffery Farnol + Andrew The Glad . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 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