CHAPTER XXIV
"SAM'L HALL"
But with the stage set and the curtain ready to rise on the farce, theaudience did not arrive until the shadow of the evening blotted thewindows of the office where big Lawlor waited impatiently, rehearsinghis part; but when the lamp had been lighted, as though that were asignal for which the tenderfoot had waited, came a knock at the door ofthe room, and then it was jerked open and the head of one of thecowpunchers was inserted.
"He's coming!"
The head disappeared; the door slammed. Lawlor stretched both arms wide,shifted his belt, loosened his gun in the holster for the fiftieth time,and exhaled a long breath. Once more the door jerked open, and this timeit was the head and sullen face of Nash, enlivened now by a peculiarlyunpleasant smile.
"He's here!"
As the door closed the grim realization came to Lawlor that he couldnot face the tenderfoot--his staring eyes and his pallor would betrayhim even if the jerking of his hands did not. He swung about in thecomfortable chair, seized a book and whisking it open bowed his head toread. All that he saw was a dance of irregular black lines: voicessounded through the hall outside.
"Sure, he'll see you," Calamity Ben was saying. "And if you want to putup for the night there ain't nobody more hospital than the Chief. Rightin here, son."
The door yawned. He could not see, for his back was resolutely toward itand he was gripping the cover of the book hard to steady his hands; buthe felt a breath of colder air from the outer hall; he felt above all anew presence peering in upon him, like a winter-starved lynx that mightflatten its round face against the window and peer in at the lazy warmthand comfort of the humans around the hearth inside. Some such feelingsent a chill through Lawlor's blood.
"Hello!" called Calamity Ben.
"Humph!" grunted Lawlor.
"Got a visitor, Mr. Drew."
"Bring him in."
And Lawlor cleared his throat.
"All right, here he is."
The door closed, and Lawlor snapped the book shut.
"Drew!" said a low voice.
The cowpuncher turned in his chair. He had intended to rise, but at thesound of that controlled menace he knew that his legs were too weak toanswer that purpose. What he saw was a slender fellow, who stood withhis head somewhat lowered while his eyes peered down from undercontracted brows, as though the light were hurting them. His feet werebraced apart and his hands dropped lightly on his hips--the very pictureof a man ready to spring into action.
Under the great brush of his moustache, Lawlor set his teeth, but he wasinstantly at ease; for if the sight of the stranger shook him to thevery centre, the other was even more obviously shocked by what he saw.The hands dropped limp from his hips and dangled idly at his sides; hisbody straightened almost with a jerk, as though he had been struckviolently, and now, instead of that searching look, he was blinking downat his host. Lawlor rose and extended a broad hand and an even broadersmile; he was proud of the strength which had suddenly returned to hislegs.
"H'ware ye, stranger? Sure glad to see you."
The other accepted the proffered hand automatically, like one moving ina dream.
"Are you Drew?"
"Sure am."
"William Drew?"
He still held the hand as if he were fearful of the vision escapingwithout that sensible bondage.
"William Drew is right. Sit down. Make yourself to home."
"Thanks!" breathed the other and as if that breath expelled with it allhis strength he slumped into a chair and sat with a fascinated eye gluedto his host.
Lawlor had time to mark now the signs of long and severe travellingwhich the other bore, streaks of mud that disfigured him from heel toshoulder; and his face was somewhat drawn like a man who has gone towork fasting.
"William Drew!" he repeated, more to himself than to Lawlor, and thelatter formed a silent prayer of gratitude that he was _not_ WilliamDrew.
"I'm forgetting myself," went on the tenderfoot, with a ghost of asmile. "My name is Bard--Anthony Bard."
His glance narrowed again, and this time Lawlor, remembering his part,pretended to start with surprise.
"Bard?"
"Yes. Anthony Bard."
"Glad to know you. You ain't by any chance related to a John Bard?"
"Why?"
"Had a partner once by that name. Good old John Bard!"
He shook his head, as though overcome by recollections.
"I've heard something about you and your partner, Mr. Drew."
"Yes?"
"In fact, it seems to be a rather unusual story."
"Well, it ain't common. John Bard! I'll tell the world there was a man."
"Yes, he was."
"What's that?"
"He must have been," answered Anthony, "from all that I've heard of him.I'm interested in what I scrape together about him. You see, he carriesthe same name."
"That's nacheral. How long since you ate?"
"Last night."
"The hell! Starved?"
"Rather."
"It's near chow-time. Will you eat now or wait for the reg'lar spread?"
"I think I can wait, thank you."
"A little drink right now to help you along, eh?" He strode over andopened the door. "Hey! Shorty!"
For answer there came only the wail of an old pirate song.
"Oh, my name's Sam'l Hall--Sam'l Hall; My name's Sam'l Hall--Sam'l Hall. My name is Sam'l Hall, And I hate you one an' all, You're a gang of muckers all-- Damn your eyes!"
"Listen!" said Lawlor, turning to his guest with a deprecating wave ofthe hand. "A cook what sings! Which in the old days I wouldn't have hada bum like that around my place, but there ain't no choosin' now."
The voice from the kitchen rolled out louder:
"I killed a man, they said, so they said; I killed a man, they said, so they said. I killed a man they said, For I hit 'im on the head, And I left him there for dead-- Damn your eyes!"
"Hey! Shorty Kilrain!" bellowed the aggravated host.
He turned to Bard.
"What'd you do with a bum like that for a cook?"
"Pay him wages and keep him around to sing songs. I like this one.Listen!"
"They put me in the quad--in the quad; They put me in the quad--in the quad. They put me in the quad, They chained me to a rod, And they left me there, by God-- Damn your eyes!"
"Kilrain, come here and make it fast or I'll damn your eyes!"
He explained to Bard: "Got to be hard with these fellers or you neverget nowhere with 'em."
"Yo ho!" answered the voice of the singer, and approached booming:
"The parson he did come, he did come; The parson he did come--did come. The parson he did come, He looked almighty glum, He talked of kingdom come--. Damn your eyes!"
Shorty loomed in the doorway and caught his hand to his forehead in anautical salute. He had one bad eye, and now it squinted as villainouslyas if he were the real _Sam'l Hall_.
"Righto sir. What'll you have, mate?"
"Don't mate me, you igner'nt sweepin' of the South Sea, but trot up somered-eye--and gallop."
The ex-sailor shifted his quid so that it stuck far out in the oppositecheek with such violence of pressure that a little spot of whiteappeared through the tan of the skin. He regarded Lawlor for a silentmoment with bodeful eyes.
"What the hell are you lookin' at?" roared the other. "On your way!"
The features of Kilrain twitched spasmodically.
"Righto, sir."
Another salute, and he was off, his voice coming back less and lessdistinctly.
"So up the rope I'll go, I will go; So up the rope I'll go--I'll go. So up the rope I'll go With the crowd all down below Yelling, 'Sam, I told you so!' Damn their eyes!"