CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
HOW ONE TRAIL ENDED
Darkness falls late on the Black Rim country in midsummer. It was justdeepening from dusk when Lance rode up to the corral gate, pulled thesaddle and bridle off Sorry with swift jerks that bespoke a haste bornof high nervous tension, and strode up to the house. From the bunkhouse, when he passed, came the murmur of low-keyed voices. Theoutfit, then, was at home once more. From the shaded window of Belle'sbedroom a thin silver of light shone, where the blind was curled backat the edge, but the rest of the house was dark. He went in, movingsoftly, but Belle must have heard his step on the porch, for she cameout with her bedroom lamp in her hand, the other raised to impressquiet upon him.
"Lance, honey! Where on earth have you been?" She set the lamp down onthe table and came close, putting her arms around him, her eyessearching the impenetrable calm of his face, the veiled purpose behindhis eyes. It was the Lorrigan fighting look; she had seen it once ortwice in Tom's face and it had frightened her. She was frightenednow, but her own intrepid soul pushed back her fear.
"_Sh-sh_, honey," she whispered, though Lance had neither moved norspoken since she touched him. "_Sh-sh_--Mary Hope and her mother arehere, and they're both asleep. I--honey, we were so worried, when youdidn't come back. That note you sent didn't say a _thing_, and I wasafraid--And I was between the devil and the deep sea, honey. Icouldn't stay away from here, when I didn't know--and I couldn't leaveHope there, and the women that came flocking when they heard the newswere just _cows_ for brains. And the old lady won't have a nurse andshe _wouldn't_ let me out of her sight--she keeps me singing about allthe time she's awake, or reciting poetry--Bobbie Burns, mostly, andScott. Would you ever _think_ she'd stand for Bobbie Burns? But I cando it as Scotch as she can, and she likes it.
"So she wouldn't let me leave, and I couldn't stay--and I had Hughmake up a bed in the spring wagon, and brought her over here. If youand Hope are going to be married right away, the old lady will need tobe here, anyway. The doctor tried to talk hospital--he just _tried_.The old lady can write now with her left hand so we can make it out,and when he said hospital to her she--she almost swore.
"So it's all right, Lance, honey--my God, Lance, _what is it_? Haveyou heard from Duke?" She broke down suddenly, and clutched him in away that reminded him poignantly of that dying man in the canyon. Herwhisper became sibilant, terrified. "_What is it?_ What has happened?Lance, _tell_ me! Tom is here, and Al; they were here when we came,to-day--"
Lance took a deep breath. Very gently he leaned and kissed her on theforehead, reached back and pulled her hands away from his shoulders.
"It's nothing, Belle. I'm--tired. And you--you surprised me. Will itwaken them if I--clean up a little before I go to bed? I'll--becareful." He forced his eyes, his lips, to smile at her. "Good girl,Belle. I'm--you're a trump. Now go back to bed. Lance is on thejob--Lance won't leave again like that--he'll--settle down."
He sat down on the nearest chair and pulled off his boots. He made animperative gesture toward her bedroom, and Belle, giving him astrange, searching look, went in and closed the door after her. Hegave a sigh of relief when she was gone, never dreaming how little hehad imposed upon her.
In his stocking feet he went to the kitchen, found hot water in theteakettle, carried it to his room and shaved, cleansing his bodyas well as he could from the dust of the trip without making anysound that might disturb the sleeping invalid and Mary Hope. Hedressed himself carefully as though he were going to meet guests.The set look was still in his face when he stood before the dressermirror, knotting the blue tie that harmonized best with the shirt hewore. He pulled the tan leather belt straight, so that the plainsilver buckle was in the middle, took something off the bed and pushedit carefully inside the waistband of his trousers, on the left side,taking great care that its position was right to the fraction of aninch. He took his tan Oxford shoes in his hand, pulled open his dooras quietly as any burglar could have done, stepped down upon theground and put on the shoes, lacing them carefully, tucking in the bowends fastidiously.
Then, moving very softly, he went down the path to the bunk-house,opened the door and walked in, never dreaming that Belle was no morethan a dozen steps behind him, or that, when he closed the door, shewas standing just outside, listening.
The blood of his actress mother carried him insouciantly over thepregnant silence that received him. He leaned negligently against thewall beside the closed door, his arms folded, his eyebrows tiltedupward at the inner ends, his lips smiling quizzically.
"I've another funny story to tell you fellows," he drawled, justbefore the silence became awkward. "Glad you're all here--it's toogood to keep, too good to waste on part of the outfit. I want you allto get the kick. You'll enjoy it--being cattlemen. It's a joke thatwas pulled on an outfit down in Arizona."
Like a trained monologist, he had them listening, deceived by hissmiling ease, waiting to hear the joke on the Arizona outfit. Tom andAl, at the table with some papers before them, papers that heldfigures and scribbled names, he quite overlooked. But they, too,listened to the story, were imposed upon by that quizzical smile, byhis mimicry, by the bold, swift strokes with which he painted wordpictures which their imaginations seized upon as fast as they weremade.
It was Tom who first felt a suspicion of Lance's purpose, and shiftedhis position a little, so that his right hand would be free. As he didso, without looking toward him Lance's left fingers began tapping,tapping the muscles of his right arm; his right hand had sagged alittle. Tom's eyebrows pulled together. Quite well he knew that pose.He waited, listened with closer attention to the story.
Lance paused, as your skillful _raconteur_ usually does pause beforethe climax. His glance went impersonally over the faces of hisaudience. Most of them were leaning forward, a few were breathinghard. They were listening, straining unconsciously to get the meaninghe withheld from them. Lance's right hand sagged another half inch,his lips pulled sidewise in the enigmatical smile of the Lorrigans.
"I lied, of course--about the outfit this joke is on. It's really theDevil's Tooth I'm talking about. But the kick remains, so listen,folks, just listen.
"I'm a Lorrigan. Two of you are Lorrigans, and you know what I meanwhen I say that. The rest of you had better _guess_ what I mean, ifyou don't know--and guess right!
"I'm talking to you with my back against the wall--in more ways thanone. Don't think I'm fool enough not to know it. But you're listeningwith your backs against another wall; I believe it is of stone,usually, and the windows have bars. I don't think you're such foolsyou fail to grasp my meaning. I'm talking--and you're going tolisten.
"What I said--well, I have the dope, you know. I know where you tookthat last bunch of stolen horses, and I know the date when you turnedthem over. I have a map or two--I know those secret trails you made,that lead into that hidden little basin that the Rim has notdiscovered yet. I've dope enough to indict the whole outfit on fiveseparate counts--and any one of them will put every man of you in thepen for a term of years--well, from five to ten up to fifteen ortwenty--a mere detail.
"I know why Duke didn't come back. There's a yellow streak in Duke,and he lost his nerve and drifted to parts unknown. Where, I'm notcurious to discover. It doesn't matter, so long as his destination_remains_ unknown.
"That's the story. And now, here's the point: Others, detectivesworking at the other end of the business, have an inkling of some ofthis dope. They haven't got what I've got, but they may possibly getit. They may--possibly. And if they do--wel-ll--" He smiled at them,his eyebrows pointing his meaning, his fingers tapping, tapping on hisarm.
"You've got to quit. Now, without turning the deal you're working on,you've got to quit. Get that. Get it right into your souls. You menthat have been hired to steal, you've got to drift. Where, does notconcern me at all. Where Duke went is good--Parts Unknown. Or if it'sto hell--why, the going is good. Never better. You'll go quicker, butthere won't be any coming back, so I advise--Parts Unknown.
> "You two Lorrigans--I'm not thinking of you now as my brother and myfather--the same advice applies to you. You're Lorrigans. You'd ratherfight it out than pull out, but you won't. You'd rather kill me thango. That's all right; I understand perfectly. But--I'm Lorrigan, too.You'll go, or I'll kill you. Tom Lorrigan, your hand is pret-ty closeto your gun! But so is mine. You'd kill me, because I stand in thetrail you've been traveling. But you wouldn't kill me a damn bitquicker than I'd kill _you_! I do stand in the trail--and you'regoing to take another, both you Lorrigans.
"You had a debt--a bill of damages against the Black Rim. Wel-ll," hesmiled, "you've collected. Now, to-night, you write 'paid' across thatbill. You tried to be honest, and the Black Rim wouldn't give youcredit for it; they tried to frame something on you, tried to send you'over the road' on a damned, measly charge you weren't small enough tobe guilty of. I understand. The trail ends right here. You quit. Yousit there ready to kill. But I'm just as ready as you are. You'llquit, or _I'll kill you_!"
He waited, watching Tom. Tom, watching Lance, got up and faced himcold-eyed, unafraid, weighing not chances, but values rather.
"You'd kill me, would you!" he asked, his voice matching the drawl ofLance.
"Sure, I'd kill you!" Lance smiled back.
Eyes on a level, the two stared at each other, smiling that deadly,Lorrigan smile, the smile of old Tom Lorrigan the killer.
"You would, all right," Tom said. Then his stiffened muscles relaxed.A twinkle came into his eyes. "If you're game enough to do that, kid,by God, I'm game enough to quit!"
Lance unfolded his arms, reached out with his open right hand and metTom's hand in a close grip. "That's the stuff, dad! I knew you had itin you--I knew it!"
Outside the door, Belle hugged her six-shooter to her breast andleaned against the wall, her knees shaking under her. "Thank God! Oh,thank God a Lorrigan can be bigger than all the Lorrigan blood that'sin him!" she whispered. "Oh, Lance, honey--oh, thank God!"