'Firebrand' Trevison

  CHAPTER XXVI

  THE ASHES

  Rosalind Benham got up with the dawn and looked out of a window towardManti. She had not slept. She stood at the window for some time and thenreturned to the bed and sat on its edge, staring thoughtfully downward.She could not get Trevison out of her mind. It seemed to her that a crisishad come and that it was imperative for her to reach a decision--topronounce judgment. She was trying to do this calmly; she was trying tokeep sentiment from prejudicing her. She found it difficult whenconsidering Trevison, but when she arrayed Hester Harvey against herlonging for the man she found that her scorn helped her to achieve amental balance that permitted her to think of him almost dispassionately.She became a mere onlooker, with a calm, clear vision. In this role sheweighed him. His deeds, his manner, his claims, she arrayed againstCorrigan and his counter-claims and ambitions, and was surprised todiscover that were she to be called upon to pass judgment on the basis ofthis surface evidence she would have decided in favor of Trevison. She hadfought against that, for it was a tacit admission that her father was insome way connected with Corrigan's scheme, but she admitted it finally,with a pulse of repugnance, and when she placed Levins' story on themental balance, with the knowledge that she had seen the record whichseemed to prove the contention of fraud in the land transaction, theevidence favored Trevison overwhelmingly.

  She got up and began to dress, her lips set with determination. Corriganhad held her off once with plausible explanations, but she would notpermit him to do so again. She intended to place the matter before herfather. Justice must be done. Before she had half finished dressing sheheard a rustle and turned to see Agatha standing in the doorway connectingtheir rooms.

  "What is it, dear?"

  "I can't stand the suspense any longer, Aunty. There is something verywrong about that land business. I am going to telegraph to father aboutit."

  "I was going to ask you to do that, dear. It seems to me that that youngTrevison is too much in earnest to be fighting for something that does notbelong to him. If ever there was honesty in a man's face it was in hisface last night. I don't believe for a minute that your father isconcerned in Corrigan's schemes--if there are schemes. But it won't do anyharm to learn what your father thinks about it. My dear--" she stepped tothe girl and placed an arm around her waist "--last night as I watchedTrevison, he reminded me of a--a very dear friend that I once knew. I sawthe wreck of my own romance, my dear. He was just such a man asTrevison--reckless, impulsive, and impetuous--dare-devil who would nottolerate injustice or oppression. They wouldn't let me have him, my dear,and I never would have another man. He went away, joined the army, and waskilled at the battle of Kenesaw Mountain. I have kept his memory fresh inmy heart, and last night when I looked at Trevison it seemed to me that hemust be the reincarnation of the only man I ever loved. There must besomething terribly wrong to make him act the way he does, my dear. And heloves you."

  The girl bit her lips to repress the swelling emotions which clamored inwild response to this sympathetic understanding. She looked at Agatha, tosee tears in her eyes, and she wheeled impulsively and threw her armsaround the other's neck.

  "Oh, I know exactly how you feel, Aunty. But--" she gulped "--he doesn'tlove me."

  "I saw it in his eyes, my dear." Agatha's smile was tender andreminiscent. "Don't you worry. He will find a way to let you know--as hewill find a way to beat Corrigan--if Corrigan is trying to defraud him!He's that kind, my dear!"

  In spite of her aunt's assurances the girl's heart was heavy as she beganher ride to Manti. Trevison might love her,--she had read that it waspossible for a man to love two women--but she could never return his love,knowing of his affair with Hester. He should have justice, however, ifthey were trying to defraud him of his rights!

  Long before she reached Manti she saw the train from Dry Bottom, due atManti at six o'clock, gliding over the plains toward the town, and whenshe arrived at the station its passengers had been swallowed by Manti'sbuildings and the station agent and an assistant were dragging and bumpingtrunks and boxes over the station platform.

  The agent bowed deferentially to her and followed her into the telegraphroom, clicking her message over the wires as soon as she had written it.When he had finished he wheeled his chair and grinned at her.

  "See the courthouse and the bank?"

  She had--all that was left of them--black, charred ruins with two ironsafes, red from their baptism of fire, standing among them. Also two otherbuildings, one on each side of the two that had been destroyed, scorchedand warped, but otherwise undamaged.

  "Come pretty near burning the whole town. It took _some_ work to confine_that_ fire--coal oil. Trevison did a clean job. Robbed the safe in thebank. Killed Braman--guzzled him. An awful complete job, from Trevison'sviewpoint. The town's riled, and I wouldn't give a plugged cent forTrevison's chances. He's sloped. Desperate character--I always thoughthe'd rip things loose--give him time. It was him blowed up Corrigan'smine. I ain't seen Corrigan since last night, but I heard him and twentyor thirty deputies are on Trevison's trail. I hope they get him." Hesquinted at her. "There's trouble brewing in this town, Miss Benham. Iwouldn't advise you to stay here any longer than is _absolutely_necessary. There's two factions--looks like. It's about that land deal.Lefingwell and some more of them think they've been given a raw decisionby the court and Corrigan. Excitement! Oh, Lord! This town is fierce. Iain't had any sleep in--Your answer? I can't tell. Mebbe right away. Mebbein an hour."

  Rosalind went out upon the platform. The agent's words had revived ahorror that she had almost forgotten--that she wanted to forget--themurder of Braman.

  She walked to the edge of the station platform, tortured by thoughts inwhich she could find no excuse for Trevison. Murderer and robber! Afugitive from justice--the very justice he had been demanding! Herthoughts made her weak and sick, and she stepped down from the platformand walked up the track, halting beside a shed and leaning against it.Across the street from her was the _Castle_ hotel. A man in boots,corduroy trousers, and a flannel shirt and dirty white apron, his sleevesrolled to the elbows, was washing the front windows and spitting streamsof tobacco juice on the board walk. She shivered. A grocer next to thehotel was adjusting a swinging shelf affixed to the store-front,preparatory to piling his wares upon it; a lean-faced man standing in adoorway in the building adjoining the grocery was inspecting a six-shooterthat he had removed from the holster at his side. Rosalind shivered again.Civilization and outlawry were strangely mingled here. She would not havebeen surprised to see the lean-faced man begin to shoot at the others.Filled with sudden trepidation she took a step away from the shed,intending to return to the station and wait for her answer.

  As she moved she heard a low moan. She started, paling, and then stoodstock still, trembling with dread, but determined not to run. The soundcame again, seeming to issue from the interior of the shed, and sheretraced her step and leaned again against the wall of the building,listening.

  There was no mistaking the sound--someone was in trouble. But she wantedto be certain before calling for help and she listened again to hear anunmistakable pounding on the wall near her, and a voice, callingfrenziedly: "Help, help--for God's sake!"

  Her fears fled and she sprang to the door, finding it locked. She rattledit, impotently, and then left it and ran across the street to where thewindow-washer stood. He wheeled and spat copiously, almost in her face, asshe rapidly told him her news, and then deliberately dropped his brush andcloth into the dust and mud at his feet and jumped after her, across thestreet.

  "Who's in here?" demanded the man, hammering on the door.

  "It's I--Judge Lindman! Open the door! Hurry! I'm smothering--and hurt!"

  In what transpired within the next few minutes--and indeed during thehours following--the girl felt like an outsider. No one paid any attentionto her; she was shoved, jostled, buffeted, by the crowd that gathered,swarming from all directions. But she was intensely interested.

  It seemed to her that
every person in Manti gathered in front of theshed--that all had heard of the abduction of the Judge. Some one securedan iron bar and battered the lock off the door; a half-dozen men draggedthe Judge out, and he stood in front of the building, swaying in the handsof his supporters, his white hair disheveled, his lips blood-stained andsmashed, where Corrigan had hit him. The frenzy of terror held him, and helooked wildly around at the tiers of faces confronting him, the cords ofhis neck standing out and writhing spasmodically. Twice he opened his lipsto speak, but each time his words died in a dry gasp. At the third efforthe shrieked:

  "I--I want protection! Don't let him touch me again, men! He means to killme! Don't let him touch me! I--I've been attacked--choked--knockedinsensible! I appeal to you as American citizens for protection!"

  It was fear, stark, naked, cringing, that the crowd saw. Faces blanched,bodies stiffened; a concerted breath, like a sigh, rose into the flat,desert air. Rosalind clenched her hands and stood rigid, thrilling withpity.

  "Who done it?" A dozen voices asked the question.

  "Corrigan!" The Judge screamed this, hysterically. "He is a thief and ascoundrel, men! He has plundered this county! He has prostituted yourcourt. Your judge, too! I admit it. But I ask your mercy, men! I wasforced into it! He threatened me! He falsified the land records! He wantedme to destroy the original record, but I didn't--I told Trevison where itwas--I hid it! And because I wouldn't help Corrigan to rob you, he triedto kill me!"

  A murmur, low, guttural, vindictive, rippled over the crowd, which had nowswelled to such proportions that the street could not hold it. It fringedthe railroad track; men were packed against the buildings surrounding theshed; they shoved, jostled and squirmed in an effort to get closer to theJudge. The windows of the _Castle_ hotel were filled with faces, amongwhich Rosalind saw Hester Harvey's, ashen, her eyes aglow.

  The Judge's words had stabbed Rosalind--each like a separate knife-thrust;they had plunged her into a mental vacuum in which her brain, atrophied,reeled, paralyzed. She staggered--a man caught her, muttered somethingabout there being too much excitement for a lady, and gruffly orderedothers to clear the way that he might lead her out of the jam. Sheresisted, for she was determined to stay to hear the Judge to the end, andthe man grinned hugely at her; and to escape the glances that she couldfeel were directed at her she slipped through the crowd and sought thefront of the shed, leaning against it, weakly.

  A silence had followed the murmur that had run over the crowd. There was abreathless period, during which every man seemed to be waiting for hisneighbor to take the initiative. They wanted a leader. And he appeared,presently--a big, broad-shouldered man forced his way through the crowdand halted in front of the Judge.

  "I reckon we'll protect you, Judge. Just spit out what you got to say.We'll stand by you. Where's Trevison?"

  "He came to the courthouse last night to get the record. I told him whereit was. He forced me to go with him to an Indian pueblo, and he kept methere yesterday. He left me there last night with Clay Levins, while hecame here to get the record."

  "Do you reckon he got it?"

  "I don't know. But from the way Corrigan acted last night--"

  "Yes, yes; he got it!"

  The words shifted the crowd's gaze to Rosalind, swiftly. The girl hadhardly realized that she had spoken. Her senses, paralyzed a minutebefore, had received the electric shock of sympathy from a continued studyof the Judge's face. She saw remorse on it, regret, shame, and the birthof a resolution to make whatever reparation that was within his power, atwhatever cost. It was a weak face, but it was not vicious, and while shehad been standing there she had noted the lines of suffering. It was notuntil the girl felt the gaze of many curious eyes on her that she realizedshe had committed herself, and her cheeks flamed. She set herself to facethe stares; she must go on now.

  "It's Benham's girl!" she heard a man standing near her whisper hoarsely,and she faced them, her chin held high, a queer joy leaping in her heart.She knew at this minute that her sympathies had been with Trevison allalong; that she had always suspected Corrigan, but had fought against thesuspicion because of the thought that in some way her father might bedragged into the affair. It had been a cowardly attitude, and she was gladthat she had shaken it off. As her brain, under the spur of the suddenexcitement, resumed its function, her thoughts flitted to the agent'sbabble during the time she had been sending the telegram to her father.She talked rapidly, her voice carrying far:

  "Trevison got the record last night. He stopped at my ranch and showed itto me. I suppose he was going to the pueblo, expecting to meet Levins andLindman there--"

  "By God!" The big, broad-shouldered man standing at Judge Lindman's sideinterrupted her. He turned and faced the crowd. "We're damned fools,boys--lettin' this thing go on like we have! Corrigan's took his deputiesout, trailin' Trevison, chargin' him with murderin' Braman, when his realpurpose is to get his claws on that record! Trevison's been fightin' ourfight for us, an' we've stood around like a lot of gillies, lettin' him doit! It's likely that a man who'd cook up a deal like the Judge, here, saysCorrigan has, would cook up another, chargin' Trevison with guzzlin' thebanker. I've knowed Trevison a long time, boys, an' I don't believe he'd_guzzle_ anybody--he's too square a man for that!" He stood on his toes,raising his clenched hands, and bringing them down with a sweep of furiousemphasis.

  The crowd swayed restlessly. Rosalind saw it split apart, men fighting toopen a pathway for a woman. There were shouts of: "Open up, there!" "Letthe lady through!" "Gangway!" "She's got somethin' to say!" And the girlcaught her breath sharply, for she recognized the woman as Hester Harvey.

  It was some time before Hester reached the broad-shouldered man's side.There was a stain in each of her cheeks, but outwardly, at least, sheshowed none of the excitement that had seized the crowd; her movementswere deliberate and there was a resolute set to her lips. She got through,finally, and halted beside the big man, the crowd closing up behind her.She was swallowed in it, lost to sight.

  "Lift her up, Lefingwell!" suggested a man on the outer fringe. "If she'sgot anything to say, let us all hear it!" The suggestion was caught up,insistently.

  "If you ain't got no objections, ma'am," said the big man. He stooped ather cold smile and swung her to his shoulder. She spoke slowly anddistinctly, though there was a tremor in her voice:

  "YOU MEN ARE BLIND. CORRIGAN IS A CROOK WHOWILL STOP AT NOTHING."]

  "Trevison did not kill Braman--it was Corrigan. Corrigan was in my room inthe _Castle_ last night just after dark. When he left, I watched him frommy window, after putting out the light. He had threatened to kill Braman.I watched him cross the street and go around to the rear of the bankbuilding. There was a light in the rear room of the bank. After a whileBraman and Corrigan entered the banking room. The light from the rear roomshone on them for an instant and I recognized them. They were at the safe.When they went out they left the safe door open. After a while the lightwent out and I saw Corrigan come from around the rear of the building,recross the street and come into the _Castle_. You men are blind. Corriganis a crook who will stop at nothing. If you let him injure Trevison for acrime that Trevison did not commit you deserve to be robbed!"

  Lefingwell swung her down from his shoulder.

  "I reckon that cinches it, boys!" he bellowed over the heads of the mennearest him. "There ain't nothin' plainer! If we stand for this we're abunch of cowardly coyotes that ain't fit to look Trevison in the face! I'mgoin' to help him! Who's comin' along?"

  A chorus of shouts drowned his last words; the crowd was in motion, swift,with definite purpose. It melted, streaming off in all directions, likethe sweep of water from a bursted dam. It broke at the doors of thebuildings; it sought the stables. Men bearing rifles appeared in thestreet, mounting horses and congregating in front of the _Belmont_, whereLefingwell had gone. Other men, on the board sidewalk and in the dust ofthe street, were running, shouting, gesticulating. In an instant the townhad become a bedlam of portentous force; it was the fir
st time in itshistory that the people of Manti had looked with collective vision, andthe girl reeled against the iron wall of the shed, appalled at theresistless power that had been set in motion. On a night when she sat onthe porch of the Bar B ranchhouse she had looked toward Manti, thrilledover a pretty mental fancy. She had thought it all a game--wondrous,joyous, progressive. She had neglected to associate justice with itthen--the inexorable rule of fairness under which every player of the gamemust bow. She brought it into use now, felt the spirit of it, saw the diretragedy that its perversion portended, groaned, and covered her face withher hands.

  She looked around after a while. She saw Judge Lindman walking across thestreet toward the _Castle_, supported by two other men. A third followed;she did not know him, but Corrigan would have recognized him as the hotelclerk who had grown confidential upon a certain day. The girl heard hisvoice as he followed after the Judge and the others--raucous, vindictive:

  "We need men like Trevison in this town. We can get along without anyCorrigans."

  She heard a voice behind her and she turned, swiftly, to see Hester Harveywalking toward her. She would have avoided the meeting, but she saw thatHester was intent on speaking and she drew herself erect, bowing to herwith cold courtesy as the woman stopped within a step of her and smiled.

  "You look ready to flop into hysterics, dearie! Won't you come over to myroom with me and have something to brace you up? A cup of tea?" she addedwith a laugh as Rosalind looked quickly at her. She did not seem to noticethe stiffening of the girl's body, but linked her arm within her own andbegan to walk across the street. The girl was racked with emotion over theexcitement of the morning, the dread of impending violence, and halffrantic with anxiety over Trevison's safety. Hester's offense against herseemed vague and far, and very insignificant, relatively. She yearned toexchange confidences with somebody--anybody, and this woman, even thoughshe were what she thought her, had a capacity for feeling, for sympathy.And she was very, very tired of it all.

  "It was fierce, wasn't it?" said Hester a few minutes later in the privacyof her room, as she balanced her cup and watched Rosalind as the girl ate,hungrily. "These sagebrush rough-necks out here will make Corrigan humphimself to keep out of their way. But he deserves it, the crook!"

  The girl looked curiously at the other, trying hard to reconcile thevindictiveness of these words and the woman's previous action in givingdamaging testimony against Corrigan, with the significant fact thatCorrigan had been in her room the night before, presumably as a guest.Hester caught the look and laughed. "Yes, dearie, he deserves it. How muchdo you know of what has been going on here?"

  "Very little, I am afraid."

  "Less than that, I suspect. I happen to know considerable, and I am goingto tell you about it. My trip out here has been a sort of a wild-goosechase. I thought I wanted Trevison, but I've discovered I'm not badly hurtby his refusal to resume our old relations."

  The girl gasped and almost dropped her cup, setting it down slowlyafterward and staring at her hostess with doubting, fearing, incredulouseyes.

  "Yes, dearie," laughed the other, with a trace of embarrassment; "you cantrust your ears on that statement. To make certain, I'll repeat it: I amnot very badly hurt by his refusal to resume our old relations. Do youknow what that means? It means that he turned me down cold, dearie."

  "Do you mean--" began the girl, gripping the table edge.

  "I mean that I lied to you. The night I went over to Trevison's ranch hetold me plainly that he didn't like me one teenie, weenie bit any more. Hewouldn't kiss me, shake my hand, or welcome me in any way. He told me he'dgot over it, the same as he'd got over his measles days--he'd outgrown itand was going to throw himself at the feet of another goddess. Oh, yes, hemeant you!" she laughed, her voice a little too high, perhaps, with an oddnote of bitterness in it. "Then, determined to blot my rival out, I liedabout you. I told him that you loved Corrigan and that you were in thegame to rob him of his land. Oh, I blackened you, dearie! It hurt him,too. For when a man like Trevison loves a woman--"

  "How could you!" said the girl, shuddering.

  "Please don't get dramatic," jeered the other. "The rules that govern thelove game are very elastic--for some women. I played it strong, but therewas no chance for me from the beginning. Trevison thinks you areCorrigan's trump card in this game. It _is_ a game, isn't it. But he lovesyou in spite of it all. He told me he'd go to the gallows for you. Aren'tmen the sillies! But just the same, dearie, we women like to hear themmurmur those little heroic things, don't we? It was on the night I toldhim you'd told Corrigan about the dynamiting."

  "Oh!" said the girl.

  "That was my high card," laughed the woman, harshly. "He took it andderided me. I decided right then that I wouldn't play any more."

  "Then he didn't send for you?"

  "Corrigan did that, dearie."

  "You--you knew Corrigan before--before you came here?"

  "You _can_ guess intelligently, can't you?"

  "Corrigan planned it _all_?"

  "All." Hester watched as the girl bowed her head and sobbed convulsively.

  "What a brazen, crafty and unprincipled _thing_ Trevison must think me!"

  Hester reached out a hand and laid it on the girl's. "I--there was a timewhen I would have done murder to have him think of me as he thinks of you,dearie. He isn't for me, though, and I can't spoil any woman's happiness.There's little enough--but I'm not going to philosophize. I was going awaywithout telling you this. I don't know why I am telling it now. I alwayswas a little soft. But if you hadn't spoken as you did a while ago in thatcrowd--taking Trevison's end--I--I think you'd never have known. Somehow,it seemed you deserved him, dearie. And I couldn't bear to--to think ofhim facing any more disappointment. He--he took it so--"

  The girl looked up, to see the woman's eyes filling with a luminous mist.A quick conception of what this all meant to the woman thrilled the girl.She got up and walked to the woman's side. "I'm _so_ sorry, Hester," shesaid as her arms stole around the other's neck.

  * * * * *

  She went out a little later, into the glaring, shimmering sunlight of themorning, her cheeks red, her eyes aglow, her heart racing wildly, to seean engine and a luxurious private car just pulling from the main track toa switch.

  "Oh," she whispered, joyously; "it's father's!"

  And she ran toward it, tingling with a new-found hope.

  In her room at the _Castle_ sat a woman who was finding the world veryempty. It held nothing for her except the sad consolation of repentance.