The Last Straw

  CHAPTER XX

  "WORK AMONG THE HEATHEN"

  The chuck wagon had gone, followed by the bed wagon and the cavet, thelast made up of one hundred and forty saddle horses, stringing alongthe road, a solid column of horse flesh. In a day the round-up would beon. Camp was to be made first far down on Coyote Creek and the countryfrom Cathedral Tank eastward would first be ridden.

  Outwardly the departure was not so different from others of its sort.There were rifles on saddles, to be sure, but there was banter and fun.Still, a spirit prevailed which told that the men were not whollyconcerned with the normal business of the range. There were otherthings, more grim, more serious, than gathering steers and brandingcalves.

  H C hands were not the only ones who rode heavily armed. There wereothers, skulking on high ridges, watching, waiting. The whole countryknew they were there. The eyes of the whole country were on thefactions. The ears of the country were strained to catch what sounds ofclash might rise. For the coming of that clash was sensed as animpending crash of thunder will be sensed under cloud banked skies.

  "I'll be joinin' them tonight or in the morning," Beck told Jane as thecavalcade disappeared down creek. "I'm glad there are things to hold mehere a few hours longer because I'll be gone a long time an' I'mjealous of the days I have to be away from you."

  "You'll come to say good-bye?"

  "If I have to crawl to you!"--as he gave her one of his lingeringkisses. "When I come back from the ride there's something I'd like totalk over with you ... which we ain't mentioned yet."

  "I'll be waiting to talk it over, dear," she whispered, for sheunderstood.

  Not long after Beck had ridden away the Reverend stumped down from thecorral to the big ranch house and rapped on the door. Jane was at herdesk and looked up in surprise for it was the first time the elder Bealhad ever come to her alone.

  "I come to ask for aid, ma'am, in what might be termed work among theheathen, though, it is in a sense the task of a home missionary."

  Jane put down her pen and sat back in her chair, trying to hide heramusement.

  "Yes, Reverend," in her crisp manner--"I'm interested."

  He blinked and rattled pens in a side pocket of the rusty coat.

  "I trust that you will bear with me, ma'am, until I have finished. Ihave been moved to speak to you for long but have hesitated because itis difficult to present the matter without intruding on privacies.

  "An unholy love is being hidden in the solitudes of these hills, a manwho is at heart a serpent seeks to corrupt the white soul of a child.You possess a knowledge of this man which may hold the only hope ofsalvation for the innocent."

  A feeling of apprehension swept through the girl; with it wassuspicion, for though her mind easily fastened on Dick Hilton as theman referred to, she could connect him with no other woman.

  "I trust, ma'am, that you will be charitable in your estimate of myworks. It is no more possible for Azariah Beal to go through life withhis eyes closed and his powers of deduction dormant than it is for thebirds to refrain from flight or the fishes from swimming. I try to dogood as I go my way. I realize that it is not in the orthodox manner,that my methods are strange; but my work is among unusual people andthe old ways of accomplishment will not produce results any more thanthe old standards of morality will fit the lives of my people.

  "I observed this man, a stranger to the country, in town on my arrival.When I reached here to tarry with my brother until I am called to moveI observed you, also a stranger to the frontier. I observed otherthings which you will not consider prying curiosity, I hope. There wasa connection, a logical connection, between you two strangers: were itnot for subsequent events this observation would have remained in myheart. So far it has, but now I must reveal it to you.

  "You are the only individual who stands between Dick Hilton and theruin of Bobby Cole!"

  He stopped talking and rattled his pens again. The apprehension whichhad possessed Jane passed and she experienced a sharp abhorrence.

  "You mean that he ..." she began and let the question trail off.

  The Reverend nodded.

  "Exactly. He has charmed her. He speaks with the cunning of a serpentand she, under his influence, is as guileless as a quail.

  "He cannot be driven off by threats because he is not that sort. Thegirl cannot be convinced of his wicked purpose because she trusts noman but him. If the affair proceeds she will pay the price of a brokenheart because, in spirit, she is pure gold.

  "He might protest his sincerity to men of this country and force theminto belief, but with you it is different. There is in every man, nomatter how far he may have fallen, a sense of shame. He can bury itdeeply from those who do not know him but to his own kind it is evernear the surface.

  "I beg of you, ma'am, to join me in this holy cause and dissuade himfrom his black purpose, if not by an appeal to honor, then by an appealto his shame."

  Jane rose.

  "You mean that he has been making ... making love to this girl? Andthat you think I can save her?"

  "It's the only way. She will not listen to men, she will not listen toyou because she considers you her enemy. He may be so far sunk in sinthat he will not heed the advice of one he has known and respected and,excuse me, loved ... after his manner of loving." Jane flushed but hegave no notice. "But unless I attempt to bring your influence to bearupon him I will feel that I have not answered the call to duty."

  He blinked again and looked at her with an appeal that wiped out anyimpression of charlatanry, of preposterousness that she might have had;he was wholly sincere.

  "Why ... I don't know what I could say ... what I could do."

  "Nor I. But you know Hilton; you know the girl; I have made youfamiliar with the situation. I rely on your resourcefulness. May Ibring him to you?"

  "Why, he wouldn't come here!"

  The Reverend rattled his pens and said:

  "I think I might persuade him. Have I, as your employee, yourpermission, I might say, your _order_, to bring him here?"

  "Of course. If there is anything I can do.... Ugh!" She shuddered andpressed a wrist against her eyes. "It's beastly! Beastly!"

  The Reverend departed and throughout the day Jane Hunter could think oflittle other than the situation which he had outlined to her. Her wrathwas roused, replacing the disgust she had felt at first, and her heartwent out to Bobby Cole with a tenderness that only woman can know forwoman.

  She tried to think ahead, to consider what she could say or do, tospeculate on what the results of this next meeting with Dick Hiltonmight be.

  Evening was well into dusk with the first stars pricking through thefailing daylight when two riders came through the HC gate. Dick Hiltonrode first and behind him, one hand in a deep pocket of his frock coat,rode the Reverend.

  "You can get down and open the gate," the Reverend said and Hilton,sulkily obeying, led his horse through.

  "Now what?" he asked in surly submission.

  "Now I'll finish my errand by escorting you to the owner of thisestablishment."

  Hilton led his horse across to the dooryard. The Reverend dismountedand the two walked down the cottonwoods to the big veranda, theEasterner still in the lead, the other with his hand in his side pocket.

  Jane saw them; she was at the door.

  "Good evening!" said Hilton with bitterness.

  "In accordance with your orders, ma'am, I persuaded this gentleman tocall," said Beal, almost humbly. "I'll feed his horse and return later."

  He turned and hurried up the path.

  Hilton pulled down his coat sleeves irritably and looked at Jane with abitter smile.

  "To what do I owe the ... the honor of such a summons?"

  "Come in, Dick. I want to talk to you,"--keeping her voice andexpression steady. She held the door open to him and he entered, hismouth drawn down in a sardonic grimace. A single shaded lamp waslighted and as she turned to him she could see his eyes glitteringbalefully in the semi-darkness.

  "Rather di
fferent from our last meeting," he said testily. "Then youwere concerned with my going; now you seem determined to have me here."

  "Let's not discuss the past, Dick. I called you here for a definitepurpose. Can you guess what it is?"

  He eyed her in hostile speculation.

  "I don't see where anything that concerns me could concern you now.That is, unless you've changed your mind."

  She gave him a wry smile and a shake of her head.

  "I shall never change, Dick. It was no interest in you that made mesend for you. It was interest in the well-being of another woman."

  "Oh, another woman! And who, pray, may she be?"--frigidly, facedarkening.

  "Can't you guess? Have there been so many out here?"

  "You know there's only one woman for me," he said bitterly, "and shedrove me off like a thief and has called me back as though I were athief!"

  "Perhaps you are."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  There was that about him which made her think of a man cornered.

  "I have called you here because I have reason to believe that you aretrying to steal the heart of a young girl--of Bobby Cole."

  He laughed unpleasantly, but there was in the laugh a queer relief, asthough he had anticipated other things.

  "Now who's been tattling to you?"

  "My men have seen you come and go, they have seen you with the girl.One of them came to me and begged that I send for you and try to talkyou out of this. They know, Dick. These men understand men ... likeyou."

  "Because they see me with her and because I'm not considered fit by youto stay beneath your roof, even when it is night and storming, theythink I'm damned beyond hope, do they? They think I'm menacing herhappiness, do they?"

  "But aren't you?" she countered. "I know her. I have talked to her andwatched her. Dick, she is a lonely, pathetic little creature with theworld against her. There have been just two things left in her life:her own splendid self respect and her devotion to her father. Why, shehasn't even had the respect of the people about her!

  "And now she is facing loss of the biggest thing she possesses: theloss of her belief in herself, for you will destroy that just as surelyas you force her to listen to your ... to what I suppose you still callyour love-making."

  He eyed her a moment before saying:

  "You used, at least, to be fair, Jane; you used to go slowly in judgingpeople and their motives and usually you were more or less right. Haveyou put all that behind you? Does the fact that a man is charged withsome irregularity convince you of his guilt now?"

  "Why no. But knowing you and knowing her..."

  "Don't you think it possible for a man, even, for the sake of theargument, a blackguard like me,"--bowing slightly--"to change a trifle?"

  He put the question with so much confidence, with so much of his oldcertainty that it checked Jane.

  "Why, we all may change," she said slowly.

  "I am glad you will grant that much,"--ironically. "Think back, just afew weeks, and you may recall one somewhat theatrical statement youmade to me about finding yourself among these people. I thought itpreposterous then but I have lived and learned; I know now that youcould mean what you said then.... Jane, I, too, have found my people... at least my woman."

  She stared hard at him.

  "Do you mean that, Dick Hilton?"--very lowly.

  "As much as I have ever meant anything in my life!"

  "Sit down," she said, more to give her time to think than inconsideration of his comfort. Then, after a moment: "It isn't much of aboast, to mean this as much as you have ever meant anything."

  "Then need we talk further? You ask questions; I answer; you do notbelieve. Why continue?"

  She sat down in a chair before him.

  "This is the reason: That I think you have lied to me again. I don'tbelieve you are sincere. No, no, you must listen to me, now!"--as hestarted forward with an enraged exclamation. "I brought you here tomake what is left of the Dick Hilton I once liked see this thing as Isee it."

  And try she did. She talked rapidly, almost hurriedly, carried along byher own conviction, made dominant by it, sweeping aside his earlyprotests, forcing him to listen to her. She put her best into thateffort for as he sat there with his cruel, cynical smile on her sherealized that this was a task worthy of her best mettle.

  She sketched Bobby Cole's life as she knew it, she argued in detail toshow him how the girl had never had a chance to taste the things whichare sweetest to girlhood. She touched on the incident in town where, indesperation, Bobby had tried to force the respect of men and she toldhim of the defiance with which her own advances of friendship had beenmet.

  Jane was eloquent. For the better part of an hour she talked steadily,occasionally interrupted by a skeptical laugh or a sneering retort, butshe persisted. Hilton listened and watched, eyes hard, mouth drawn intoforbidding lines, a manner of suspicious caution about him, as thoughthere were much that he wanted to conceal.

  Finally her sincerity had an effect and she could see his coldassurance melting. His gaze left hers and a flush crept into hischeeks. She moved quickly to sit beside him.

  "Dick! Dick! For the sake of what you once were, for the sake of whatyou still can be, go away! If you won't go for the sake of the girl, gofor your own salvation!"

  "It's not what you think," he protested feebly, without looking at her."I'm not philandering. I--"

  "No, Dick, not philandering, because that is too gentle a word. It issomething worse, something darker, which will bring more shame to youand to all who once knew and trusted you.

  "Don't you see that you're playing with something as delicate as amountain flower? Don't you see you will crush it? Because this girl isstrong of body and thoroughly able to contend for her own position withmuscles and weapons, don't think that her heart can be treated roughly.It would wither if she gave it to you and found that you held it oflittle value."

  "I tell you I'm on the level with her."

  "Would you marry her?"--leaning closer to him as his manner told of theeffect her pleas were having.

  "Of course."

  "You'd take her east, to your friends?"

  "Why, why not?"--shifting uneasily.

  "Dick, look at me!" Tears in her eyes, she put her hands on hisshoulders and forced him to turn his face. "You can't mean that? I cansee you don't. Dick, oh, Dick! For the sake of all that is good andfine in life, for the sake of the manhood you can regain, don't do thisthing!

  "I'm asking it of you. Perhaps I have little right to make any requestsof you but in the name of the love you say you once bore for me try tolook into my, a woman's heart, and see what this thing means. I'm nottrying to make it difficult for you; I'm not trying to interfere and bemean. I'm begging you, Dick, to give her up and if nothing else willappeal to you, do it for my sake!"

  She shook him gently as he turned his head from her, humiliated,shamed, beaten. He was convinced: she knew that his sham was brokendown, that his purpose was clear to her and the conscience thatremained in his soul tortured him.

  Jane held so a long moment, fingers gripping his shoulders, appeal inevery tense line of her body.

  And close outside the window another figure held tense, watching,holding breath in futile attempt to catch the low words they spoke. Itwas a slender figure and had ridden up on a soft-stepping horse,dismounted, slipped over the fence, ran stealthily along the creek,halted in the shadow of the cottonwoods and then crept slowly forwarduntil it stood close to the shaft of yellow light which streamed fromthe window. There it stood spying....

  "You have said that you loved me, Dick. Do this for me in the name ofthat love! I am asking it with a sincerity that was never in any otherrequest I have made of you."

  She shook him again and slowly he turned his face to hers, showing anexpression of weakness, of helplessness, as one who turns to askhumbly, almost desperately for aid.

  The figure out there started forward as though it would leap throughthe window, making a sharp so
und of breath hissing through teeth, infright or in hatred. The movement was checked, for the gate creakedopen, the scuffling boots of a man were heard on the path. The figureskulked swiftly along the house, ducking along the cottonwoods, outtoward the road where a horse stood waiting.

  It was the Reverend coming and he whistled "_Yield not toTemptation_," as he neared the house, as if to give warning of hisapproach. Hilton heard and looked up sharply and a glitter of rageappeared in his eyes. He shook Jane Hunter off savagely and rose.

  "I'd let you make an ass of me!" he cried savagely. "You won't believewhen I tell you the truth....

  "But what the devil should I care?" he broke off shortly. "Whatever Ido and where and why is my own affair; none of yours, though you try tomake it yours, try to judge me as you judge your own, new friends,probably.

  "You talk of the man I once was. Well, if I've changed in your eyes, itis not my fault; it's yours, Jane Hunter, yours! You'd drive me on,lead me on, and when finally cornered you'd be perfectly frank to tellme that you'd only toyed with me, that you tolerated me because youthought you might have to use the things I owned!"

  "Not that, Dick! You're putting it all wrong...."

  "Listen to me!" he shouted, quivering with rage. "If I've changed it isyou who have changed me! If life means nothing to me, it is you whohave made it so!" He was towering in his anger and, seeking to shiftresponsibility for his own rottenness to the shoulders of the womanbefore him, he aroused a sense of injury and genuine indignation. "Youplayed me as your last straw as long as you dared and now, by God, whenI go my way, the only way open to me, when I try to redeem a littlehappiness, you hound me, try to shame me with your sham morals!"

  "Dick, that's not true."

  "It is true. Why, you haven't a leg to stand on, you--"

  His storming was interrupted by a rap on the door and he turned to seethe Reverend standing there, battered derby in his hands.

  "Excuse me," he said mildly, "but the gentleman's horse is fed."

  It was his way of letting Jane Hunter--and Dick Hilton--know that shewas not alone; but if the Reverend had intended to stop the tiradewhich he had heard from outside he did not succeed for the Easternerwas further enraged at sight of him.

  "I suppose this is part of your plan!" he snapped. "You found out thatit's no use to wheedle me, so you've had your gun-man come to drive meoff as he brought me!"

  "Dick, don't be silly! You're absurd. A gun. The idea!"

  Hilton laughed tauntingly and said:

  "He's standing there now, covering me with a gun! Look at him." Hepointed to the Reverend's pocket. A hand was in it and the garmentbulged sharply as though a revolver, concealed there, was ready forinstant use. "That's how you treat me; that's how you got me here. Godknows I wouldn't have come otherwise if your existence depended on it.

  "This man met me on the trail. He said you wanted to see me. Iconsigned him to the Hell from which he tries to have sinners and hecovered me from his pocket just as he has me covered now and said itwould be wise for me to answer your summons.

  "How else do you think he brought me?" he demanded, wheeling to faceJane again.

  The girl looked quickly to Beal, lips parted in surprise.

  "I sent Mr. Beal for you, yes, but I said nothing about using force tobring you. I wouldn't do that. I'm sure there is some mistake."

  "Yes, ma'am, I'm sure there is," said the Reverend, blinking andwithdrawing his hand slowly. "I'm a man of peace. I'm not a man offorce."

  He lifted his hand clear, the ominous bulge in his pocket giving way,and held up one of his pens.

  "One dollar," he said rather weakly ... as though frightened, or vastlyamused.

  Standing there, looking rather blankly about, holding that pen in hishand he was in ludicrous contrast to the furious Hilton. It made theother man seem absurd, his raging like the burlesque of some clowningactor.

  With a helpless, choking oath Hilton turned, livid with rage, andstrode for the doorway.

  "For the last time I've been made a fool of!" he cried, and hastened upthe path.

  They heard him mount his horse and ride away.

  Jane was too busied with more somber thoughts to appreciate the humorof the situation; she did later. Even had she been able to giveattention to the contrast between Hilton's rage and the chagrin whichfollowed so closely, the change in the Reverend would have diverted herattention. He stood looking at her with grief in his eyes and when hespoke his voice shook.

  "I feel that I have done my duty, ma'am, but that is all Azariah Bealhas to say for himself. There has been no result. I may have been toolate in my attempt. Surely, there is nothing more to be done....

  "Nothing more, unless you may succeed in ridding yourself of yourenemies."

  "Do you think that would have an effect on Bobby Cole?"

  He nodded gravely.

  "You and she have something in common: an enemy."

  "He has been here tonight? You mean that Hilton is my enemy in thesense that he may imperil the future of the HC?"

  "The same, ma'am."

  "Reverend, it is likely that you are right. I am beginning to see aconnection between factors which have seemed to be unrelated."

  He started to speak but a shout checked him. They listened to aconfusion of voices.

  "Something's wrong," Beal said and stepped to the veranda. "Why ...somebody's hurt!"

  Jane ran to the doorway but he had already started up the path. Shefollowed as she saw a close huddle of men about the lighted doorway ofthe bunk house move slowly in, carrying a burden gently and as sheneared the building a rather tragic quiet marked the group.

  Nigger, Two-Bits' horse, was standing saddled in the path of light.Inside a man was lying face down on the floor. The Reverend kneltbeside him, leaning forward, and others stood close, silent and grave.

  The prostrate man was Two-Bits and his shoulders dripped blood. As Janebecame a part of the group he stirred and struggled to raise his head.

  "What is it, brother?" Azariah asked gently, turning Two-Bits over andsupporting his head. "Tell us. You're not done for. It's ripped yourback open, but that's all. Who was it?"

  The other looked about slowly with bewildered eyes.

  "From behind," he said weakly. "They got me from behind...." His gazewavered from face to face and finally rested on Jane's. He moved feebly.

  "A big bunch of your cattle must be in th' Hole, ma'am," he said."There ain't ... any water there.... I was keepin' 'em ... out ... an'somebody got me from behind.... They must of waited ... to get me ...from behind.... And the only water's ... in fence....

  "It looks like ... a lot of trouble, ma'am...."

  He stopped talking, exhausted.