Out of the Depths: A Romance of Reclamation

  CHAPTER XXIII

  THE TEMPTATION

  When the ladies explained their plans for remaining in camp on HighMesa, Blake gave a ready assent.

  "All right, Jenny. It'll be something like old times. Can't scare youup any lions or fever, leopards or cyclones; but you may see thatwolf."

  "I should welcome all savage Africa if it would rid us of this awfulcanyon!" replied his wife.

  "Won't you please give it up?" begged Isobel. "I am to blame for yourcoming here. If anything should happen to you, I--I could neverforgive myself--never!"

  Blake looked at the two lovely, anxious faces before him, and smiledgravely. "There you go again, and you have yet to see that gulch. Buteven if you find that it looks dangerous, you wouldn't want me to leta little risk interfere with my work, would you? Think of the foolswho climb the highest and steepest mountains just for sport. I amgoing down there because it is necessary."

  "But is it?" the girl half sobbed.

  "Someone must do it, sooner or later," he replied, and he took hiswife's hand in his big palm. "Come, little woman, speak up. Do youwant your husband to be a shirker and quitter?"

  "Of course not, Tom. Yet one should be reasonable."

  "I have had enough experience in climbing to know not to attempt theimpossible, Sweetheart," he assured her. "The worst looking places arenot always the most dangerous. I promise you to take only reasonablerisks."

  "Have we time enough to look at the place this afternoon?" sheinquired.

  Blake glanced at the sun, and nodded. "The riding is good. We can getback long before dark. Ashton, you had better stretch out and rest."

  "No, I shall go with you," replied Ashton, his lips set in as firmlines as Blake's.

  "You cannot go, Lafe, unless you agree to ride my pony," said Isobel.

  "I'm not going to have Gowan call me a baby again," he objected.

  "You will need all your strength tomorrow," predicted Blake.

  "You must ride," insisted Isobel.

  "Very well--to please you," he agreed. "We shall take turns."

  Blake again looked at the sun. "As long as we are going, we may aswell carry forward the line of levels. We can take long turns nearlyall the way, so there will be little delay."

  "And I shall rod for you!" delightedly exclaimed Isobel.

  "Only part of the time," qualified Ashton with a sharpness that theothers attributed to his zeal to serve her.

  He filled his canteen from one of the cans of water brought up byGowan, and rinsed out the mouths and nostrils of the thirsty ponies.This done, he and Genevieve mounted, and the party started off on aroute parallel with the canyon, which here trended back away from theedge of the plateau.

  They soon came to where the surface of the mesa was slashed withgulleys and ravines, all running down into the canyon. Blake swung awayfrom the canyon, in order to head the worst of these ravines or tocross them where they were less precipitous. Presently, however, hestruck in again towards the great rift along the flank of a highbarren ridge. At last he led over the ridge and down to the side of avery large ravine where it pitched into the canyon at an angle littleless steep than the descent of Dry Fork Gulch.

  The line of levels, as Blake had foretold, had been an easy one torun. It was stopped on the corner of a shelf of rock that jutted outabove the gorge. Having provided a soft nest for the baby, the fourwent out on the shelf and peered down the dizzy slope into the blackshadows of the depths.

  The two ladies drew back shuddering. Blake looked about at them andseeing their troubled faces, sought to quiet their dread.

  "You have not looked close enough," he said. "With spikes and ropes,the worst of this will be comparatively easy. There are ledges andcrevices all the way down. You cannot see the lower half. When I washere with Gowan and Mr. Knowles, the sun was shining to the bottom.The lower half of the descent is much less steep than this you see."

  Genevieve smiled trustfully. "Oh, if you say it is safe, Tom!"

  "We shall take down the rope and all the spikes we can carry," heexplained in further reassurance. "At the worst places a spike and apiece of the rope will not only let us down safely, but can be leftfor our ascent."

  "Then it will be all right!" sighed Isobel.

  "For him--yes!" broke in Ashton, his voice harsh and strained. He wascringing back, white-faced, from the edge of the gulch.

  "Why, Lafe!" exclaimed the girl. "If Tom--Mr. Blake goes down, surelyyou can't mean that you--"

  "He's used to climbing--I'm not!" Ashton sought to excuse himself.

  "Oh, very well," she said. "Of course it is not right to ask you to doit if you suffer from vertigo. I shall ask Kid to take your place. Ifhe refuses, Daddy will do it."

  "That may mean delay," remarked Blake. "If that scoundrel really isheaded for Utah, your father may not be back for several days. Yet heasked me to settle this matter as soon as possible."

  "Then, if Kid will not go down with you, I shall," declared the girl,her blue eyes flashing.

  "No, no indeed, dear!" protested Genevieve. "It is simply impossible!You shall not do it!"

  "I shall, unless Kid--"

  "You shall not ask him!" interposed Ashton, his pale face suddenlyflushing a hot red. "I am going down!"

  "You will, Lafayette?" cried Genevieve. "That is very brave and--andkind of you!"

  "But if you have no experience in climbing?" objected Isobel in a tonethat transmuted the young man's angry flush into a glow of delight.

  "Don't inexperienced climbers go up the Alps with guides?" henonchalantly replied. "I can trust Blake to get me safe to the bottom.He will need me in his business."

  "Good for you, Lafe!" commended Blake.

  It was the first time that he had ever addressed Ashton so familiarly.He accompanied it with the proffer of his hand. But Ashton did notlook at him. He was basking in the frankly admiring gaze of MissKnowles.

  The party returned in the same manner that they had come out, forIsobel firmly refused to permit Ashton to walk. Blake allowed her toset the pace, and she chose such a rapid one that they reached camp afull half hour before sunset.

  A few minutes later, as they were sitting down to a hastily preparedsupper, Gowan appeared with the second load from the lower camp. Blakeand Ashton sprang up to loosen the packs of the sweating, pantinghorses. The puncher swung down from his saddle, not to assist them,but to remonstrate with Isobel.

  "Been expecting to meet you, all the way up, Miss Chuckie," he said."Ain't you staying too late? You won't get home before long afterdark."

  "Mrs. Blake and I are not going down tonight, Kid," replied the girl,and she explained the change of plans.

  Gowan listened attentively, though without commenting either by lookor word. When she had quite finished, he asked a single question:"Think your Daddy won't mind, Miss Chuckie?"

  "He will understand that we simply can't leave here until Lafeand--Mr. Blake are safe up out of the canyon."

  "All right. You're the boss," he acquiesced. "Just write out a listof what you want. I'll take all the hawsses down to the waterhole, andgo on to the ranch. You can look for me back at sunup. The moon risesbetween three and four."

  "Genevieve, will you make out the list? Sit down and eat, Kid."

  "Well, just a snack, Miss Chuckie. Wouldn't stop for that if thehawsses didn't know the trail well enough to go down in the dark."

  "Have you seen any sign of the murderer?" inquired Ashton.

  Gowan drained the cup of scalding hot coffee handed to him by Isobel,and answered jeeringly: "Don't worry, Tenderfoot. He won't try to getyou tonight. If he came back today, he saw me around. If he comes backtonight, he won't think of climbing High Mesa to look for you."

  Blake came to the puncher with a list written by himself and his wifeon a leaf from his fieldbook. Gowan folded it in his hatband, washeddown the last mouthful of bread and ham that he had been bolting, andwent to shift his saddle to Isobel's pony, the youngest and freshestof the horses. In two minutes he was rid
ing away down the ridge,willingly followed by the four other horses. They knew as well as hethat they were returning to the waterhole.

  As the campers again sat down to their supper Isobel paused with thecoffeepot upraised. "Genevieve," she inquired, "did you put cream onthe list?"

  "Why, no, my dear. It did not occur to me."

  "Nor may it to Yuki. He will be sure to send eggs and butter, butunless he thinks to save tonight's cream--I'll run and tell Kid."

  Ashton sprang up ahead of her. "I'll catch him," he said, and sprinteddown the ridge.

  Racing around a thicket of scrub oak, he caught sight of Gowan morethan an eighth of a mile ahead. He whistled repeatedly. At last Gowantwisted about in the saddle, and drew rein. He did not turn back, butmade Ashton come all the way to him.

  "Well, what's wanted?" he demanded.

  "Cream," panted Ashton. "Miss Chuckie says--tell Yuki."

  "Shore pop, I'll bring all there is," replied Gowan. Ashton startedback. "Hold on," said the puncher. "I want to say something to you,and here's the chance."

  "What is it?"

  "About him. I want you to keep a mighty close watch tonight."

  "But you said that the murderer would not--"

  "_Bah!_ What does he count in this deal? It's this engineer. I've beenchewing it over all afternoon. Miss Chuckie is as innocent andtrusting as a lamb, spite of her winterings in Denver, and she'splumb locoed over him, reading so much about him in the reports."

  "Still, it does not necessarily follow--"

  "Don't it, though!" broke in the puncher. "Guess you didn't find itany funnier than I did seeing her hanging onto his shoulder."

  "Curse him!" cried Ashton, his jealousy flaring at the remembrance.

  "Now you're talking!" approved Gowan. "That shows you like her like Ido. You're not going to stand for her losing her fortune."

  "Her fortune?"

  "By his flooding us off our range."

  "Ah--as for that, I have been thinking it over. She told me Mr.Knowles owns five sections. If water is put on them--Western Coloradofruit lands are very valuable, you know."

  "That's a lie. Water can't make five sections worth a rangelike ours. But supposing it could--" the puncher leaned towardsAshton, his eyes glaring with the cold malignancy of a strikingrattlesnake's--"supposing it could, how about us letting herlose her good name?"

  "Good God!" gasped Ashton. "It can't come to that!"

  "Can't it? can't it? Where's your eyes? And him a married man! The--"Gowan cursed horribly.

  "You really believe it!" cried Ashton, convinced by the other'soutburst.

  "Believe it? I know it!" declared Gowan. "If you thought half as muchof her as I do--"

  "I do!--not half, but a hundred times more!"

  "Yes, you do?"

  "I swear it! I'd do anything for her!"

  "Except save her from him."

  "No, no! How can I? Tell me how!"

  The puncher bent nearer to the half-frenzied man. "You're going downthat gulch with him. Suppose a spike gets knocked out or a rope breaksor a loose rock gets pushed over?"

  "God!" cried Ashton, putting his hands over his eyes. "That would bemurder!"

  "_Bah!_ You'd make a dog sick! Willing to do anything for her--exceptsave her from him! And nothing to it but just an accident that's justas like as not to happen anyway."

  "But--murder!" shudderingly muttered Ashton.

  "Murder a skunk," sneered Gowan. "If saving her from him isn't a caseof justifiable homicide, what is? Don't you get the idea? Just alikely accident, down there where nobody can see."

  Ashton dropped his hands, half clenched, to his sides. Beads of coldsweat were gathering and running down his drawn face.

  "I can't!" he whispered. "I--I can't!"

  "Not if I agree to get out of the way and give you clear running?"tempted Gowan.

  "You would?"

  "Yes. You see how much I like her. You rid her of him, and I'll letyou have her for doing it."

  Ashton shuddered.

  "Think it over--and watch him mighty close tonight," advised thetempter.

  A red flush leaped into Ashton's face. Gowan struck his spurs into hishorse's flank and loped away.

  Ashton stood motionless. The puncher disappeared down the mountainside. The twilight faded and darkness closed down about the torturedman. He stood there motionless, his convulsed face alternatelyflushing and paling, his eyes now clouding, now burning with rage andhate.

  When at last he returned to the camp he kept beyond the circle offirelight. Hurriedly he rolled up in his blankets for the night,muttering something about his head and his need of rest for the nextday's work. The others accepted the explanation without question. Theyformed a cheerful domestic group about the fire from which he was shutout by his passion.

  The ladies withdrew into the tent at an early hour. Blake strolledaround the camp until after nine o'clock, but finally came with hisblankets and companionably rolled up near Ashton. He was soon fastasleep. But Ashton lay tossing until after midnight. Weariness atlast weighed down the lids of his hot eyes and numbed his torturedbrain. He sank into a feverish sleep haunted with evil dreams.