CHAPTER III
AN ACCUSATION
The rescued man ate, drank, and from sheer fatigue fell asleep within fiveminutes of the time he was shown his bedroom.
Since he was not of the easily discouraged kind, the deputy stayed tosupper on invitation of Lee. He sat opposite the daughter of his host, andthat young woman treated him with the most frigid politeness. The owner ofthe Bar Double G was quite unaware of any change of temperature. Jack andhis little girl had always been the best of friends. So now he discoursedon the price of cows, the good rains, the outrages of the rustlers, andkindred topics without suspecting that the attention of the young man wason more personal matters.
Though born in Arizona, Melissy was of the South. Due westward rolls thetide of settlement, and Beauchamp Lee had migrated from Tennessee afterthe war, following the line of least resistance to the sunburnedterritory. Later he had married a woman a good deal younger than himself.She had borne him two children, the elder of whom was now a young man.Melissy was the younger, and while she was still a babe in arms the motherhad died of typhoid and left her baby girl to grow up as best she might ina land where women were few and far. This tiny pledge of her mother's loveChamp Lee had treasured as a gift from Heaven. He had tended her andnursed her through the ailments of childhood with a devotion the most pureof his reckless life. Given to heady gusts of passion, there had neverbeen a moment when his voice had been other than gentle and tender toher.
Inevitably Melissy had become the product of her inheritance and herenvironment. If she was the heiress of Beauchamp Lee's courage andgenerosity, his quick indignation against wrong and injustice, so, too,she was of his passionate lawlessness.
After supper Melissy disappeared. She wanted very much to be alone andhave a good cry. Wherefore she slipped out of the back door and ran up theLone Tree trail in the darkness. Jack thought he saw a white skirt fly atraitorous signal, and at leisure he pursued.
But Melissy was not aware of that. She reached Lone Tree rock and slippeddown from boulder to boulder until she came to the pine which gave theplace its name. For hours she had been forced to repress her emotions, tomake necessary small talk, to arrange for breakfast and other householddetails. Now she was alone, and the floods of her bitterness wereunloosed. She broke down and wept passionately, for she was facing herfirst great disillusionment. She had lost a friend, one in whom she hadput great faith.
The first gust of the storm was past when Melissy heard a step on therocks above. She knew intuitively that Jack Flatray had come in search ofher, and he was the last man on earth she wanted to meet just now.
"'Lissie!" she heard him call softly; and again, "'Lissie!"
Noiselessly she got to her feet, waiting to see what he would do. She knewhe must be standing on the edge of the great rock, so directly above herthat if he had kicked a pebble it would have landed beside her. Presentlyhe began to clamber down.
She tiptoed along the ledge and slipped into the trough at the farther endthat led to the top. It was a climb she had taken several times, but neverin the dark. The ascent was almost perpendicular, and it had to be made byclinging to projecting rocks and vegetation. Moreover, if she were toescape undetected it had to be done in silence.
She was a daughter of the hills, as surefooted as a mountain goat. Handilyshe went up, making the most of the footholds that offered. In spite ofthe best she could do the rustling of bushes betrayed her.
Jack came to the foot of the trough and looked up.
"So you're there, are you?" he asked.
Her foot loosened a stone and sent it rolling down.
"If I were you I wouldn't try that at night, 'Liss," he advised.
She made sure of the steadiness of her voice before she answered. "Youdon't need to try it."
"I said if I were you, girl."
"But you are not. Don't let me detain you here, Mr. Flatray," she told himin a manner of icy precision.
The deputy began the climb too. "What's the use of being so hostile,little girl?" he drawled. "Me, I came as soon as I could, burning thewind, too."
She set her teeth, determined to reach the top in time to get away beforehe could join her. In her eagerness she took a chance that proved herundoing. A rock gave beneath her foot and clattered down. Clinging by onehand and foot, she felt her body swing around. From her throat a littlecry leaped. She knew herself slipping.
"Jack!"
In time, and just in time, he reached her, braced himself, and gave herhis knee for a foot rest.
"All right?" he asked, and "All right!" she answered promptly.
"We'll go back," he told her.
She made no protest. Indeed, she displayed a caution in lowering herselfthat surprised him. Every foothold she tested carefully with her weight.Once she asked him to place her shoe in the crevice for her. He had neverseen her take so much time in making sure or be so fussy about herpersonal safety.
Safely on the ledge again, she attempted a second time to dismiss him."Thank you, Mr. Flatray. I won't take any more of your time."
He looked at her steadily before he spoke. "You're mighty high-heeled,'Lissie. You know my name ain't Mr. Flatray to you. What's it all about?I've told you twice I couldn't get here any sooner."
She flamed out at him in an upblaze of feminine ferocity. "And I tell_you_, that I don't care if you had never come. I don't want to see you orhave anything to do with you."
"Why not?" He asked it quietly, though he began to know that her chargeagainst him was a serious one.
"Because I know what you are now, because you have made us believe in youwhile all the time you were living a lie."
"Meaning what?"
"I was gathering poppies on the other side of Antelope Pass thisafternoon."
"What has that got to do with me being a liar and a scoundrel," he wantedto know.
"Oh, you pretend," she scoffed. "But you know as well as I do."
"I'm afraid I don't. Let's have the indictment."
"If everybody in Papago County had told me I wouldn't have believed it,"she cried. "I had to see it with my own eyes before I could have beenconvinced."
"Yes, well what is it you saw with your eyes?"
"You needn't keep it up. I tell you I saw it all from the time you firedthe shot."
He laughed easily, but without mirth. "Kept tab on me, did you?"
She wheeled from him, gave a catch of her breath, and caught at the rockwall to save herself from falling.
He spoke sharply. "You hurt yourself in the trough."
"I sprained my ankle a little, but it doesn't matter."
He understood now why she had made so slow a descent and he suspected thatthe wrench was more than she admitted. The moon had come out from under acloud and showed him a pale, tear-stained face, with a row of even, littleteeth set firm against the lower lip. She was in pain and her pride waskeeping it from him.
"Let me look at your ankle."
"No."
"I say yes. You've hurt it seriously."
"That is my business, I think," she told him with cold finality.
"I'm going to make it mine. Think I don't know you, proud as Lucifer whenyou get set. You'll lame yourself for life if you're not careful."
"I don't care to discuss it."
"Fiddlesticks! If you've got anything against me we'll hear what it isafterward. Right now we'll give first aid to the injured. Sit down here."
She had not meant to give way, but she did. Perhaps it was because of thefaintness that stole over her, or because the pain was sharper than shecould well endure. She found herself seated on the rock shelf, letting himcut the lace out of her shoe and slip it off. Ever so gently he worked,but he could tell by the catches of her breath that it was not pleasant toendure. From his neck he untied the silk kerchief and wrapped it tightlyaround the ankle.
"That will have to do till I get you home."
"I'll not trouble you, sir. If you'll stop and tell my father that is allI'll ask."
"Dif
ferent here," he retorted cheerfully. "Just so as to avoid anyargument, I'll announce right now that Jack Flatray is going to see youhome. It's his say-so."
She rose. None knew better than she that he was a dominating man when hechose to be. She herself carried in her slim body a spirit capable ofpassion and of obstinacy, but to-night she had not the will to force thefighting.
Setting her teeth, she took a step or two forward, her hand against therock wall to help bear the weight. With narrowed eyes, he watched herclosely, noting the catches of pain that shot through her breathing. Halfway up the boulder bed he interposed brusquely.
"This is plumb foolishness, girl. You've got no business putting yourweight on that foot, and you're not going to do it."
He slipped his arm around her waist in such a way as to support her all hecould. With a quick turn of the body she tried to escape.
"No use. I'm going through with this, 'Lissie. Someone has been lying toyou about me, and just now you hate the ground I walk on. Good enough.That's got nothing to do with this. You're a woman that needs help, andany old time J. F. meets up with such a one he's on the job. You don't oweme 'Thank you,' but you've got to stand for me till you reach the house."
"You're taking advantage of me because I can't help myself. Why don't yougo and bring father," she flung out.
"I'm younger than your father and abler to help. That's why?"
They reached the top of the bluff and he made her sit down to rest. A palemoon suffused the country, and in that stage set to lowered lights herpallor was accented. From the colorless face shadowy, troubled eyes spokethe misery through which she was passing. The man divined that her painwas more than physical, and the knowledge went to him poignantly by theheart route.
"What is it, 'Lissie? What have I done?" he asked gently.
"You know. I don't want to talk about it."
"But I don't know."
"What's the use of keeping it up? I caught you this afternoon."
"Caught me doing what?"
"Caught you rustling, caught you branding a calf just after you had shotthe cow."
For an instant her charge struck him dumb. He stared at her as if hethought she had gone suddenly mad.
"What's that? Say it again," he got out at last.
"And the cow had the Bar Double G brand, belonged to my father, your bestfriend," she added passionately.
He spoke very gently, but there was an edge to his voice that was new toher. "Suppose you tell me all about it."
She threw out a hand in a gesture of despair. "What's the use? Nothingcould have made me believe it but my own eyes. You needn't keep up apretense. I saw you."
"Yes, so you said before. Now begin at the start and tell your story."
She had the odd feeling of being put on the defensive and it angered her.How dared he look at her with those cool, gray eyes that still appeared tobore a hole through treachery? Why did her heart convict her of havingdeserted a friend, when she knew that the desertion was his?
"While I was gathering poppies I heard a shot. It was so close I walked tothe edge of the draw and looked over. There I saw you."
"What was I doing?"
"You were hogtying a calf."
"And then?"
"I didn't understand at first. I thought to slip down and surprise you forfun. But as I got lower I saw the dead cow. Just then you began to brandthe calf and I cried out to you."
"What did I do?"
"You know what you did," she answered wearily. "You broke for the brushwhere your horse was and galloped away."
"Got a right good look at me, did you?"
"Not at your face. But I knew. You were wearing this blue silkhandkerchief." Her finger indicated the one bound around her ankle.
"So on that evidence you decide I'm a rustler, and you've only known methirteen years. You're a good friend, 'Lissie."
Her eyes blazed on him like live coals. "Have you forgotten the calf youleft with your brand on it?"
She had startled him at last. "With my brand on it?" he repeated, hisvoice dangerously low and soft.
"You know as well as I do. You had got the F just about finished when Icalled. You dropped the running iron and ran."
"Dropped it and ran, did I? And what did you do?"
"I reheated the iron and blurred the brand so that nobody could tell whatit had been."
He laughed harshly without mirth. "I see. I'm a waddy and a thief, butyou're going to protect me for old times' sake. That's the play, is it? Iought to be much obliged to you and promise to reform, I reckon."
His bitterness stung. She felt a tightening of the throat. "All I ask isthat you go away and never come back to me," she cried with a sob.
"Don't worry about that. I ain't likely to come back to a girl that thinksI'm the lowest thing that walks. You're not through with me a bit morethan I am with you," he answered harshly.
Her little hand beat upon the rock in her distress. "I never would havebelieved it. Nobody could have made me believe it. I--I--why, I trustedyou like my own father," she lamented. "To think that you would take thatway to stock your ranch--and with the cattle of my father, too."
His face was hard as chiseled granite. "Distrust all your friends. That'sthe best way."
"You haven't even denied it--not that it would do any good," she saidmiserably.
There was a sound of hard, grim laughter in his throat. "No, and I ain'tgoing to deny it. Are you ready to go yet?"
His repulse of her little tentative advance was like a blow on the face toher.
She made a movement to rise. While she was still on her knees he stooped,put his arms around her, and took her into them. Before she could utterher protest he had started down the trail toward the house.
"How dare you? Let me go," she ordered.
"You're not able to walk, and you'll go the way I say," he told hershortly in a flinty voice.
Her anger was none the less because she realized her helplessness to getwhat she wanted. Her teeth set fast to keep back useless words. Into hisstony eyes her angry ones burned. The quick, irregular rise and fall ofher bosom against his heart told him how she was struggling with herpassion.
Once he spoke. "Tell me where it was you saw this rustler--the exact placenear as you can locate it."
She answered only by a look.
The deputy strode into the living room of the ranch with her in his arms.Lee was reading a newspaper Jack had brought with him from Mesa. At sightof them he started up hurriedly.
"Goddlemighty, what's the matter, Jack?"
"Only a ricked ankle, Champ. Slipped on a stone," Flatray explained as heput Melissy down on the lounge.
In two minutes the whole house was upset. Hop Ling was heating water tobathe the sprain. A rider from the bunkhouse was saddling to go for thedoctor. Another was off in the opposite direction to buy some liniment atMammoth.
In the confusion Flatray ran up his horse from the pasture, slapped on thesaddle, and melted into the night.
An hour later Melissy asked her father what had become of him.
"Doggone that boy, I don't know where he went. Reckon he thought he'd bein the way. Mighty funny he didn't give us a chanct to tell him to stay."
"Probably he had business in Mesa," Melissy answered, turning her face tothe wall.
"Business nothing," retorted the exasperated rancher. "He figured wecouldn't eat and sleep him without extra trouble. Ain't that a finereputation for him to be giving the Bar Double G? I'll curl his hair forhim onct I meet up with him again."
"If you would put out the light, I think I could sleep, dad," she told himin the least of voices.
"Sure, honey. Has the throbbing gone out of the ankle?" he askedanxiously.
"Not entirely, but it's a good deal better. Good-night, dad."
"If Doc comes I'll bring him in," Lee said after he had kissed her.
"Do, please."
But after she was left alone Melissy did not prepare herself for sleep.Her wide open eyes stared into
the darkness, while her mind stormilyreviewed the day. The man who for years had been her best friend was ascoundrel. She had proved him unworthy of her trust, and on top of that hehad insulted her. Hot tears stung her eyes--tears of shame, of woundedself-love, of mortification, and of something more worthy than any ofthese.
She grieved passionately for that which had gone out of her life, for thecomradeship that had been so precious to her. If this man were a waddy,who of all her friends could she trust? She could have forgiven him had hedone wrong in the heat of anger. But this premeditated evil was beyondforgiveness. To make it worse, he had come direct from the doing of it tomeet her, with a brazen smile on his lips and a lie in his heart. Shewould never speak to him again--never so long as she lived.