CHAPTER XXIX
JIM
It was with no very cheerful feelings that Jim Thorpe approachedBarnriff once more. He had delayed his return as long as possible, notfrom any fear for himself, but for the sake of giving color to hisfinal protestations to Doc Crombie, when they parted company at theLittle Bluff River.
After resting his horse in the river woods for a full twenty-fourhours--and, in that time, the tough beast had fully recovered from hisjourney--he then, with simple strategy, hunted up Will's tracks wherethe fugitive had left the river, and steadily trailed him to thenorthern hills. There he gave up further pursuit, having fullysatisfied himself that the man's escape had been accomplished. So heturned his horse's head toward Barnriff, and prepared himself to facethe trouble that he knew would be awaiting him.
It was a cheerless journey, harassed by thoughts and speculations thatcould be hardly considered illuminating. Curiously enough he had nothought of making a run for it to a district where he was stillunknown. Why should he? There was not a guilty thought in his mind,unless it were the recollection of the trick he had played on thelynching party to save Will from the rope.
No, his set purpose was to return to Barnriff and fight the publicfeeling he knew there was against him, and to live it down. Besides,there was Eve. Who could tell, with such a husband as Will, when shemight not need the help of a strong, willing arm? His love for herwas stronger than his discretion, it was more powerful than anyselfish consideration.
He had but one real friend in Barnriff that he knew of. There wereseveral, he believed, who, at a crisis, would vote in his favor, butthat was all. Peter Blunt he knew he could rely on to the last. And,somehow, this man, to his mind, was an even more powerful factor thanDoc Crombie. It was not that Peter held any great appeal with thepeople, but somehow there was a reserve of mental strength in the manthat lifted him far above his fellows, in his capacity to do inemergency. He felt that, with the great shadow of Peter standing by,he had little to fear from such jackals as Smallbones.
Yet the outlook was depressing enough as he drew near his destination.He no longer had the possibility of clearing his name. That was past.A hope abandoned with many others in his short life. All thought ofestablishing his innocence must be wiped out forever. He had enlistedhimself in Eve's service for good or evil, and the only thingremaining to him was, by facing the yelping of the Barnriff pack, witha dogged, defiant front, to attempt to live down his disgrace. Inthis, to his simple mind, there was one great thing in his favor. Thecattle stealing was at an end. There would be no further depredations.And this alone would be of incalculable help to him. He knew thecattle world well enough to understand that the ethics of the casewere not of paramount importance with these people. It was the loss ofstock which rankled. It was the definite, material loss and injury tothe commerce of the district.
But to a man of his honor and love of fair play the position wasdesperately hard. Fate was driving him at a pace that threatened towreck in no uncertain manner. The downward path looked so easy--was soeasy. Lately he had frequently found himself wondering why he didn'tgo with the tide and head straight for the vortex that he felt wouldbe only too ready to engulf him. He had been so near it once. Thatmoment was indelibly fixed on his memory. He doubted that but forPeter Blunt he would never have resisted the temptation. He knewhimself, he was honest with himself. That day when he first discoveredWill's treachery Peter had saved him.
Now everything seemed somehow different. His thoughts were frequentlydesperate enough, but, whereas a year ago he would have cried outagainst Heaven, against everything in Heaven or on earth, now hewanted to set his back to the wall and fight. He felt it in him tofight, let the odds be what they might. And he knew that he owed thisnew spirit to the big-hearted Peter, who had once shown him how wronghe was.
But though less acknowledged, there was another influence at workwithin him. Eve was there alone, far more alone than if she had nevermarried Will. He only guessed what her feelings must be, for she wasstill in doubt as to Will's safety. Yes, he would at least have theprivilege of carrying her the glad tidings.
He laughed bitterly. He could not help it. Yes, she would be thehappier for his tidings, and with that he must be content. Now, no onewould ever know. Her disgrace would be hidden, and she would be ableto live on quietly in the village with her young brother until suchtime as she felt it safe to join her husband.
Try as he would to appreciate the comparative happiness he wasconveying to the woman, he felt the sharp pricks of the thorny burdenhe was bearing. He smiled in the growing darkness, and told himselfthat there was no disaster that brought happiness to any one but mustbe counted as a good work.
He could see the twinkling lights of the village less than half a mileahead, and he glanced over them carefully. There was the saloon. Whocould mistake it, with its flamboyant brilliance against the lessertwinkle of the smaller houses? His eyes searched for the lights ofEve's home. He could not see them. Possibly she was in her kitchen,that snug little room, where, up to a year ago, he had many a timetaken tea with her. Yes, it would be about her supper-time. He lookedback at the western sky to verify the hour. The last faint sheen ofsunset was slipping away into the soft velvet of night.
He thought for a moment as to his best course. Should he wait untilmorning to bear his tidings to her? No, that would leave herunnecessary time for worry and anxiety. Best go to her to-night--atonce.
He shook up his horse into a better gait. It were best to hurry. Hedid not want to be seen visiting her late in the evening. He knew thescandalous tongues of the village only too well.
In a few minutes he was nearing the saloon. He would pass within fiftyyards of it. As he came abreast of it he turned his head curiously inits direction. There was a great din of voices coming from its frowzyinterior, and he wondered. The men seemed to have begun their nightlyorgie early. Then it occurred to him that perhaps Crombie's men hadreturned, and were out to make a night of it. He smiled to himself.They would need a good deal of drink to wash out the taste of thebitter pill of Will's escape.
Had he but known it, the occasion was a meeting of the townsmen todecide his fate. Had he but known it, Peter Blunt was there watchinghis interests and ready to fight with both brains and muscle on hisbehalf. But then, had he known it, it might have altered the wholecomplexion of the events which happened in Barnriff that night.
He did not know it, so he rode straight on to Eve's house. Nor did itoccur to him as strange, at that hour in the evening, that he did notencounter a single soul on his way.
Arrived at her gate he dismounted and off-saddled. He would not needhis horse again that night, so he turned the animal loose to graze atits leisure. It would find its way to the water when it wanted to, andwhen he had seen Eve he would carry his saddle back to Peter's hut,where he was going to sleep.
Just for a moment he paused before opening the gate. The house wasstill in darkness. He had half a mind to go round the back and see ifthere were lights in the kitchen. But it seemed like spying to him,and so he refrained.
But somehow the place suggested that there was no one within,and eventually he started up the path with a feeling of keendisappointment. At the door he paused and felt for the latch.Then, just as his hand came into contact with it, and he wasabout to lift it, he started, and, motionless, stood listening.
What was that? He thought he heard a peculiar moaning beyond thedoor. No, he was mistaken. There was no sound now. At least---- Ah,there it was again. He pressed one ear against the door andimmediately started back. He had not been mistaken.
He no longer hesitated, but, lifting the latch noisily, pressedagainst the door. It was fast. And now the moaning suddenly becamelouder. Without a thought, without a scruple, he promptly thrust histoe against the foot of the door and pressed heavily. Then, liftingthe latch, he threw all the weight of his powerful shoulder againstthe lock. The door gave before him, nearly precipitating him headlonginto the room.
He managed to save hims
elf and stepped hurriedly within. Then he againstood listening. The room was quite dark, but now he had no difficultyin placing the moaning. It came from just across the room beside Eve'sstove.
"Eve," he called softly. "Eve!" But as no answer came a great feargripped his heart. Was this a repetition of---- No, Will was away outin the mountains.
Now the moaning was louder, and there was a distinct rustling whencethe sound came. He fumbled a match from his pocket and struck it. Oneglance toward the stove set him rushing across to the parlor lamp.
He lit the lamp and hurried back to the chair beside the stove. Heneeded but one glance to realize Eve's condition, and his heart wasfilled with a great rage. Who? Who had done this thing? was thequestion that ran through his mind as he set to work to undo the cruelbonds that held her to her chair.
It was the work of a few moments to remove the gag that was nearlychoking her. Then the knots about her wrists and feet were swiftlyundone. Released at last, Eve sank back in a semi-fainting condition,and Jim looked on helplessly. And in those moments he made up his mindthat some one was going to pay dearly for this.
Then it occurred to him that no time must be lost, so he hurried intothe kitchen and came back with a dipper of drinking water. He held itto the girl's lips, and after she had drunk he soaked his handkerchiefin what remained, and bathed her forehead and temples with a wonderfultenderness and silent sympathy.
But suddenly Eve opened her eyes. And at once he saw that her weaknesshad passed. The horror of recollection was alive once more within her,and her terrified eyes sought his. When she saw who he was she sprangto her feet with a great cry.
"Jim!" she cried. And, staggering in her weakness, she would havefallen.
He caught her just in time, and gently returned her to her seat. Butwith a great effort she overcame her faintness.
"For God's sake, save him!" she cried wildly. "Oh, Jim, he's gone tokill him! Save him for me! Only save him!"
The position was difficult. Jim's heart bled for the distraught woman.But he realized that he must calm her at once, or she would break outinto shrieking hysterics.
"Be calm, Eve," he said almost roughly. "How can I understand when youtalk like that? Don't let's have any foolishness. Now quietly. Who'sgone to kill--who?"
His manner had its effect. Eve choked back her rising emotion with aneffort, and her eyes lost some of their straining.
"It's Will," she said, with a sort of deliberate measuring of herwords. "He's gone to kill Elia. Out there, back at the bluff. It's forsetting the men after him. And--then, and then he's coming back----"
Jim was staggered. He looked at the woman wondering if she hadsuddenly lost her senses.
"And I came back to tell you he'd got clear away. By Heaven! And hedid this?" He indicated the bonds he had just removed, and his eyesdarkened with sudden fury.
The woman nodded. She was holding herself with all her might.
"Yes, but--that's nothing." Suddenly she let herself go. All the oldterror surged uppermost again. "But don't wait! Jim, save him for mysake! Save him for me! Oh, my poor, helpless brother! Jim--Jim, youare the only one I can look to. Oh, save him! He's all I have--all Ihave."
It was a dreadful moment for the man. The woman he loved half deadwith terror and the cruel handling dealt her by her husband. Now shewas appealing to him as the only man in the world she could appeal to.His love rushed to his head and came near to driving him to the onething in the world he knew he must not do. He longed to crush her inhis strong arms, and proclaim his right to protect her against theworld. He loved her so that he wanted to defy everybody, all theworld, that he might claim her for his own. But she was not his. Andhe almost spoke the words aloud to convince himself and drive back thedemon surging through his blood.
"Where did you say he was?" he demanded, almost savagely in histremendous self-repression.
"At the bluff, out back. Hurry, hurry, for--God's sake!"
That was better. The less personal appeal helped him to calm himself.
"How long's he been gone?" he asked, turning his eyes from herterror-stricken face to help himself regain his own control.
"About a quarter of an hour, or even a half," she cried.
"It's a quarter of a mile, isn't it?"
"More. Nearly a mile."
"Right. You stay here." He threw a pistol on the table. "Keep that toprotect yourself," he added, brusquely. "And--Eve, if I get there intime, I'll save your brother. If I don't, your husband shall die, assure as----"
But his sentence remained unfinished. He rushed out of the house andsought his horse. The animal was still grazing near by. He slipped thebit into its mouth. Then he sprang on to its bare back and gallopedoff.
And as he rushed out Eve fell back into a chair laughing and crying atthe same time.