CHAPTER XXIV
REALIZING A PASSION
Ruth stood for a long time on the porch after Hagar's departure, grippedby emotions, that had had no duplicates in all her days. Never before hadshe thought herself capable of experiencing such emotions. For the manshe loved was in danger. She knew at this minute that she loved him, thatshe had loved him all along. And she was not able to go to him; she couldnot even learn, until Hagar returned, whether the girl had been in time,or whether he had succumbed to the blind frenzy of the avenger. Theimpotence of her position did much to aggravate her emotions, and theysurged through her, sapping her strength. It was hideous--the dread, theuncertainty, the terrible suspense, the dragging minutes. She walked backand forth on the porch, her hands clenched, her face drawn and white,praying mutely, fervently, passionately, that Hagar might be in time.
Thinking to divert her mind, she at last went into the cabin and began towalk about, looking at various objects, trying to force herself to takean interest in them.
She saw, back of a curtain, a number of the dresses and other garmentsshe had given Hagar, and she could not disperse the thought that perhapsif she had not given the clothing to Hagar, Masten might not have beenattracted to her. She drew the curtain over them with something near ashudder, considering herself not entirely blameless.
She endeavored to interest herself in Catherson's pipe and tobacco, on ashelf near the stove; wondering over the many hours that he had smoked inthis lonesome place, driving away the monotony of the hours. What a blowthis must be to him! She began to understand something of the terribleemotions that must have seized him with the revelation. And _she_ hadbrought Masten here, too! Innocent, she was to blame there! And sheunconsciously did something, as she walked about, that she had neverbefore attempted to do--to put herself into other persons' positions, totry to understand their emotions--the motives that moved them to dothings which she had considered vicious and inhuman. She had forced herimagination to work, and she succeeded in getting partial glimpses of theviewpoints of others, in experiencing flashes of the passions that movedthem. She wondered what she would do were Hagar _her_ daughter, and foran instant she was drunken with the intensity of the passion that grippedher.
Before her trip around the interior of the cabin was completed, she cameupon a six-shooter--heavy, cumbersome, like the weapon she had used theday Randerson had taught her to shoot. It reposed on a shelf near thedoor that led to the porch, and was almost concealed behind a box inwhich were a number of miscellaneous articles, broken pipes, pieces ofhardware, buckles, a file, a wrench. She examined the weapon. It wasloaded, in excellent condition. She supposed it was left there forHagar's protection. She restored it to its place and continued herinspection.
She had grown more composed now, for she had had time to reflect.Catherson had not had much of a start; he would not ride so fast asHagar; he did not know where, on the range, he might find Randerson.Hagar was sure to catch him; she _would_ catch him, because of her deepaffection for Randerson. And so, after all, there was nothing to worryabout.
She was surprised to discover that she could think of Masten without theslightest regret; to find that her contempt for him did not cause her theslightest wonder. Had she always known, subconsciously, that he was ascoundrel? Had that knowledge exerted its influence in making herreluctant to marry him?
Standing at a rear window she looked out at the corral, and beyond it ata dense wood. She had been there for about five minutes, her thoughtsplacid, considering the excitement of the day, when at a stroke a changecame over her. At first a vague disquiet, which rapidly grew into a dreadfear, a conviction, that some danger lurked behind her.
She was afraid to turn. She did not turn, at once, listening instead forany sound that might confirm her premonition. No sound came. The silencethat reigned in the cabin was every bit as intense as that whichsurrounded it. But the dread grew upon her; a cold chill raced up herspine, spreading to her arms and to her hands, making them cold andclammy; to her head, whitening her face, making her temples throb. Andthen, when it seemed that she must shriek in terror, she turned. In thedoorway, leaning against one of the jambs, regarding her with narrowed,gleaming eyes, a pleased, appraising smile on his face, was Tom Chavis.
Her first sensation was one of relief. She did not know what she hadexpected to see when she turned; certainly something more dire andterrible than Tom Chavis. But when she thought of his past actions, ofhis cynical, skeptical, and significant looks at her; of his manner atthis minute; and reflected upon the fact that she was alone, she realizedthat chance could have sent nothing more terrible to her.
He noted her excitement, and his smile broadened. "Scared?" he said. "Oh,don't be." His attitude toward her became one of easy assurance. Hestepped inside and walked to the rough table that stood near the centerof the room, placing his hands on it and looking at her craftily.
"Nobody here," he said, "but you--eh? Where's Catherson? Where's Hagar?"
"They've gone to the Flying W," she answered, trying to make her voiceeven, but not succeeding. There was a quaver in it. "You must have seenthem," she added, with a hope that some one at the ranchhouse might haveseen _him_. She would have felt more secure if she had known that someone_had_ seen him.
"Nothin' doin'," he said, a queer leap in his voice. "I come straightfrom the shack, by the Lazette trail. How does it come that you're here,alone? What did Catherson an' Hagar go to the Flyin' W for? How long willthey be gone?"
"They will be back right away," she told him, with a devout hope thatthey would.
"You're lyin', Ruth," he said familiarly. "You don't know when they'll beback." He grinned, maliciously. "I reckon I c'n tell you why you're herealone, too. Hagar's took your cayuse. Hagar's is in the corral. You see,"he added triumphantly as he saw the start that she could not repress."I've been nosin' around a little before I come in. I wasn't figgerin' onrunnin' into Abe Catherson." He laughed thickly, as though some sort ofpassion surged over him. "So you're all alone here--eh?"
She grew weak at the significance of his words, and leaned against thewindow-sill for support. And then with the realization that she must notseem to quail before him, she stood erect again and forced her voice tosteadiness.
"Yes," she said, "I am alone. Is there any need to repeat that? And beingalone, I am in charge, here, and I don't want you here for company."
He laughed, making no move to withdraw.
"I'm here on business."
"You can't have any business with me. Come when the Cathersons are here."
"The waitin's good," he grinned. He walked around to the side of thetable, and with one hand resting on its top, looked closely at her,suspicion in his eyes. "Say," he said in a confidential whisper, "itlooks peculiar to me. Catherson an' Hagar both gone. Hagar's got yourcayuse, leavin' you here alone. Has ol' Catherson tumbled to Masten bein'thick with Hagar?"
"I don't know," she said, flushing. "It is no affair of mine!"
"It ain't--eh?" he said with a laugh, low and derisive. "You don't carewhat Masten does-eh? An' you're goin' to marry him, Monday. Masten'slucky," he went on, giving her a look that made her shudder; "he's gottwo girls. An' one of them don't care how much he loves the other." Helaughed as though the matter were one of high comedy.
His manner, the half-veiled, vulgar significance of his words and voice,roused her to a cold fury. She took a step toward him and stood rigid,her eyes flashing.
"You get out of this cabin, Tom Chavis!" she commanded. "Getout--instantly!" No longer was she afraid of him; she was resolute,unflinching.
But Chavis merely smiled--seemingly in huge enjoyment. And then, while helooked at her, his expression changed to wonder. "Holy smoke!" he said."Where's Masten's eyes? He said you didn't have any spirit, Ruth, thatyou was too cold an' distant. I reckon Masten don't know how to size up agirl--a girl, that is, which is thoroughbred. Seems as though his kind ismore like Hagar!" He grinned cunningly and re
ached into a pocket, drawingout a paper. He chuckled over it, reading it. Then, as though she werecertain to appreciate the joke, he held it out to her. "Read it, Ruth,"he invited, "it's from Masten, askin' Hagar to meet him, tomorrow, downthe crick a ways. He's dead scared to come here any more, sinceRanderson's aimin' to perforate him!"
Only one conscious emotion afflicted her at this minute: rage overChavis' inability to understand that she was not of the type of woman whocould discuss such matters with a man. Evidently, in his eyes, all womenwere alike. She knew that such was his opinion when, refusing to take thepaper, she stepped back, coldly, and he looked at her in surprise, asneer following instantly.
"Don't want to read it--eh? Not interested? Jealous, mebbe--eh?" Hegrinned. "Sure--that's it, you're jealous." He laughed gleefully. "Youwomen are sure jokes. Masten can't wake you up--eh? Well, mebbe Masten--"He paused and licked his lips. "I reckon I don't blame you, Ruth. Mastenain't the sort of man. He's too cold-blooded, hisself to make a womansort of fan up to him. But there's other guys in this country, Ruth,an'--"
She had seized the first thing that came to her hands, a glass jar thathad set on the window sill behind her, and she hurled it furiously andaccurately. It struck him fairly on the forehead and broke into manypieces, which clattered and rang on the bare board floor. The sound theymade, the smashing, dull impact as the jar had struck Chavis, caused herheart to leap in wild applause--twanging a cord of latent savagery in herthat set her nerves singing to its music. It was the first belligerentact of her life. It awakened in her the knowledge that she could defendherself, that the courage for which she had prayed that night when on therock where Randerson had found her, was lurking deep, ready to answer hersummons. She laughed at Chavis, and when she saw him wipe the blood fromhis face and look at her in bewilderment, she challenged himperemptorily:
"Go--now, you beast!"
His answer was a leering grin that made his face hideous. He looked likea wounded animal, with nothing but concentrated passion in his eyes. Heract had maddened him.
"I'll fix you, you hussy!" he sneered cursing.
She saw now that he was aroused past all restraint, and when he cametoward her, crouching, she knew that other missiles would not suffice,that to be absolutely safe she must get possession of the big pistol thatreposed on the shelf near the door. So when he came toward her sheslipped behind the table. He grasped it by its edge and tried to swing itout of the way, and when she held it he suddenly swooped down, seizing itby the legs and overturning it. As it fell he made a lunge at her, butshe eluded him and bounded to the door. The box holding the miscellaneousarticles she knocked out of its place, so that it fell with a tinklingcrash, throwing its contents in all directions. Her fingers closed on thestock of the pistol, and she faced Chavis, who was a few feet away,leveling the big weapon at him. Her voice came firmly; she was surprisedat her own calmness:
"Don't move, Chavis, don't dare to take a step, or I'll kill you!"
Chavis halted, his face a dirty, chalkish white. Twice his lips opened,in astonishment or fear, she could not tell which, but no sound came fromthem. He stood silent, watching her, furtive-eyed, crouching.
In this interval her thoughts rioted in chaos, like dust before ahurricane. But a question dominated all: could she carry out her threatto kill Chavis, if he took the step?
She knew she would. For in this crisis she had discovered one of nature'sfirst laws. She had never understood, before, but in the last few minutesknowledge had come to her like a burst of light in the darkness. And avoice came to her also--Randerson's; she mentally repeated the words hehad spoken on the day he had told her about the rustlers: "I reckon you'dfight like a tiger, ma'am, if the time ever come when you had to."
Yes, she would fight. Not as a tiger would fight, but as Randersonhimself had fought--not with a lust to do murder, but in self-protection.And in this instant the spirit of Randerson seemed to stand beside her,applauding her, seeming to whisper words of encouragement to her. And shecaught something of his manner when danger threatened; his colddeliberation, his steadiness of hand and eye, his grim alertness. For shehad unconsciously studied him in the few minutes preceding the death ofPickett, and she was as unconsciously imitating him now.
Her thoughts ceased, however, when she saw Chavis grin at her, mockingly.
"It's a bluff!" he said. "You couldn't hit the ground, if you had a-holdof the gun with both hands!" He moved slightly, measuring the distancebetween them.
Plainly, she saw from his actions, from his tensed muscles, her threatwould not stop him. She was very pale, and her breast heaved as thoughfrom a hard run; Chavis could hear the sound of her breathing as he sethimself for a leap; but her lips were pressed tightly together, her eyesglowed and widened as she followed the man's movements. She was going tokill; she had steeled her mind to that. And when she saw the man'smuscles contract for the rush that he hoped would disconcert her, shefired, coolly and deliberately.
With the deafening roar of the weapon in her ears, a revulsion, swift,sickening, overcame her. The report reverberated hideously; she seemed tohear a thousand of them. And the smoke billowed around her, strong,pungent. Through it she saw Chavis stagger, clap one hand to his chestand tumble headlong, face down, at her feet. The interior of the cabinwhirled in mad circles; the floor seemed to be rising to meet her, andshe sank to it, the six-shooter striking the bare boards with a thud thatsounded to her like a peal of thunder. And then oblivion, deep andwelcome, descended.
Coming down through the break in the canyon, riding slightly in advanceof Hagar, Randerson heard the report of a pistol, distant and muffled. Heturned in the saddle and looked at Hagar questioningly.
"That come from your shack!" he said shortly; "Ruth there alone?"
He caught the girl's quick affirmative, and Patches leaped high in theair from pain and astonishment as the spurs pressed his flanks. When hecame down it was to plunge forward with furious bounds that sent himthrough the water of the river, driving the spume high over his head. Hescrambled up the sloping further bank like a cat, gained the level andstraightened to his work. Twice that day had riders clattered the narrowtrail with remarkable speed, but Patches would have led them.
He was going his best when within fifty feet of the shack he heardRanderson's voice and slowed down. Even then, so great was his impetus,he slid a dozen feet when he felt the reins, rose to keep from turning asomersault, and came down with a grunt.
In an instant Randerson was inside the cabin. Ruth lay prone, where shehad fallen. Randerson, pale, grim-lipped, leaned over her.
"Fainted!" he decided. He stepped to the man and turned him over roughly.
"Chavis," he ejaculated, his lips hardening. "Bored a-plenty!" he added,with vindictive satisfaction. He saw Ruth's weapon, noted the gash inChavis' forehead, and smiled. "I reckon she fit like a tiger, all right!"he commented admiringly. And now he stood erect and looked down at Ruthcompassionately. "She's killed him, but she'll die a-mournin' over it!"Swift resolution made his eyes flash. He looked again at Ruth, saw thatshe was still in a state of deep unconsciousness. Running out of thecabin, he drew one of his six-shooters. When he had gone abouttwenty-five feet from the edge of the porch, he wheeled, threw the gun toa quick level, and aimed at the interior of the cabin. At the report heran toward the cabin again, to meet Hagar, just riding up, wide-eyed andwondering.
"What is goin' on?" she demanded. "What you doin'?"
"Killin' a man," he told her grimly. He seized her by the shoulders."Understand," he said sternly; "_I_ killed him, no matter what happens.I'd just got here."
With Hagar at his heels he entered the cabin again. While the girl workedwith Ruth, he went to the rear wall of the cabin and examined it. Whenshooting from the outside he had aimed at the wall near a small mirrorthat was affixed there, and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction when,embedded in one of the logs that formed the wall, he found the bullet.
Five minutes later he and Hagar led Ruth out on the porch. The girl wasshaki
ng and cringing, but trying hard to bear up under the recollectionof her terrible experience. She had looked, once, at Chavis, on the floorof the cabin, when she had recovered, and her knees had sagged. ButRanderson had gone to her assistance. She had looked at him, too, in muteagony of spirit, filled with a dull wonder over his presence, but gainingnothing from his face, sternly sympathetic. Outside, in the brilliantsunshine, a sense of time, place, and events came back to her, and forthe first time since her recovery she thought of Abe Catherson's note,which Hagar had read.
"Oh," she said, looking at Randerson with luminous eyes, joy flashing inthem, "he didn't shoot you!"
"I reckon not, ma'am," he grinned. "I'm still able to keep on rangebossin' for the Flyin' W."
"Yes, yes!" she affirmed with a gulp of delight. And she leaned her heada little toward him, so that it almost touched his arm. And he noted,with a pulse of pleasure, that the grip of her hand on the arm tightened.
But her joy was brief; she had only put the tragedy out of her mind foran instant. It returned, and her lips quavered.
"I killed Chavis, Randerson," she said, looking up at him with a pitifulsmile. "I have learned what it means to--to take--human life. I killedhim, Rex! I shot him down just as he was about to spring upon me! But Ihad to do it--didn't I?" she pleaded. "I--I couldn't help it. I kept himoff as long as I could--and nobody came--and he looked so terrible--"
"I reckon you've got things mixed, ma'am." Randerson met her puzzled lookat him with a grave smile. "It was me, ma'am, killed him."
She drew a sharp breath, her cheeks suddenly flooded with color; sheshook Hagar's arm from around her waist, seized Randerson's shoulders,gripping the sleeves of his shirt hard and staring at him, searching hiseyes with eager, anxious intensity.
"Don't lie to me, Randerson," she pleaded. "Oh," she went on, reddeningas she thought of another occasion when she had accused him, "I know youwouldn't--I know you _never_ did! But I killed him; I know I did! For Ishot him, Randerson, just as he started to leap at me. And I shall neverforget the look of awful surprise and horror in his eyes! I shall neverget over it--I will never forgive myself!"
"Shucks, ma'am, you're plumb excited. An' I reckon you was more excitedthen, or you'd know better than to say you did it. Me an' Hagar was justgettin' off our horses here at the door--after comin' from the Flyin' W.An' I saw Tom Chavis in the cabin. He was facin' the door, ma'am," hesaid at a venture, and his eyes gleamed when he saw her start, "an' I sawwhat he was up to. An' I perforated him, ma'am. From outside, here. Yourgun went off at the same time. But you ain't learned to shoot extra goodyet, an' your bullet didn't hit him. I'll show you where it's stuck, inthe wall."
He led her inside and showed her the bullet. And for a short space sheleaned her head against the wall and cried softly. And then, her eyesfilled with dread and doubt, she looked up at him.
"Are you sure that is my bullet?" she asked, slowly. She held her breathwhile awaiting his answer.
It was accompanied by a short laugh, rich in grave humor:
"I reckon you wouldn't compare your shootin' with _mine_, ma'am. Mehavin' so much experience, an' you not bein' able to hit a soap-boxproper?"
She bowed her head and murmured a fervent:
"Thank God!"
Randerson caught Hagar's gaze and looked significantly from Ruth to thedoor. The girl accepted the hint, and coaxed Ruth to accompany her to thedoor and thence across the porch to the clearing. Randerson watched themuntil, still walking, they vanished among the trees. Then he took Chavis'body out. Later, when Ruth and Hagar returned, he was sitting on the edgeof the porch, smoking a cigarette.
To Ruth's insistence that Hagar come with her to the house, the girlshook her head firmly.
"Dad will be back, most any time. He'll feel a heap bad, I reckon. An'I've got to be here."
A little later, riding back toward the Flying W--when they had reachedthe timber-fringed level where, on another day, Masten had received histhrashing, Ruth halted her pony and faced her escort.
"Randerson," she said, "today Uncle Jepson told me some things that Inever knew--about Masten's plots against you. I don't blame you forkilling those men. And I am sorry that I--I spoke to you as I did--thatday." She held out a hand to him.
He took it, smiling gravely. "Why, I reckoned you never meant it," hesaid.
"And," she added, blushing deeply; "you are not going to make itnecessary for me to find another range boss, are you?"
"I'd feel mighty bad if you was to ask me to quit now," he grinned. Andnow he looked at her fairly, holding her gaze, his eyes glowing. "But asfor bein' range boss--" He paused, and a subtle gleam joined the glow inhis eyes. "There's a better job--that I'm goin' to ask you for--some day.Don't you think that I ought to be promoted, ma'am?"
She wheeled her pony, blushing, and began to ride toward the ranchhouse.But he urged Patches beside her, and, reaching out, he captured the handnearest him. And in this manner they rode on--he holding the hand, athrilling exultation in his heart, she with averted head and downcasteyes, filled with a deep wonder over the new sensation that had come toher.
Uncle Jepson, in the doorway of the house, eagerly watching for thegirl's return, saw them coming. Stealthily he closed the door and slippedout into the kitchen, where Aunt Martha was at work.
"Women is mighty uncertain critters, ain't they, Ma?" he said, shakinghis head as though puzzled over a feminine trait that had, heretofore,escaped his notice. "I cal'late they never know what they're goin' to donext."
Aunt Martha looked at him over the rims of her spectacles, wonderment inher gaze--perhaps a little belligerence.
"Jep Coakley," she said severely, "you're always runnin' down the women!What on earth do you live with one for? What are the women doin' now,that you are botherin' so much about?"
He gravely took her by the arm and pointed out of a window, from whichRuth and Randerson could be seen.
Aunt Martha looked, long and intently. And when she finally turned toUncle Jepson, her face was radiant, and she opened her arms to him.
"Oh, Jep!" she exclaimed lowly, "ain't that wonderful!"
"I cal'late I've been expectin' it," he observed.