12
By the time absolute darkness had set in, Donnegan, in the new role oflady's chaperon, sat before a dying fire with Louise Macon beside him.He had easily seen from his talk with Stern that Landis was a publicfigure, whether from the richness of his claims or his relations withLord Nick and Lebrun, or because of all these things; but as a publicfigure it would be impossible to see him alone in his own tent, andunless Louise could meet him alone half her power over him--supposingthat she still retained any--would be lost. Better by far that Landisshould come to her than that she should come to him, so Donnegan hadrented two tents by the day at an outrageous figure from theenterprising real estate company of The Corner and to this new home hebrought the girl.
She accepted the arrangement with surprising equanimity. It seemed thather father's training had eliminated from her mind any questioning ofthe motives of others. She became even cheerful as she set aboutarranging the pack which Donnegan put in her tent. Afterward she cookedtheir supper over the fire which he built for her. Never was there sucha quick house-settling. And by the time it was absolutely dark they hadwashed the dishes and sat before Lou's tent looking over the nightlights of The Corner and hearing the voice of its Great White Wayopening.
She had not even asked why he did not bring her straight to Jack Landis.She had looked into Donnegan's tent, furnished with a single blanket andhis canvas kit, and had offered to share her pack with him. And now theysat side by side before the tent and still she asked no questions aboutwhat was to come.
Her silence was to Donnegan the dropping of the water upon the hardrock. He was crumbling under it, and a wild hatred for the colonel rosein him. No doubt that spirit of evil had foreseen all this; and he knewthat every moment spent with the girl would drive Donnegan on closer tothe accomplishment of the colonel's great purpose--the death of JackLandis. For the colonel, as Jack's next of kin, would take over all hismining interests and free them at a stroke from the silent partnershipwhich apparently existed with Lord Nick and Lester. One bullet would doall this: and with Jack dead, who else stood close to the girl? It wasonly necessary that she should not know who sped the bullet home.
A horrible fancy grew up in Donnegan, as he sat there, that between himand the girl lay a dead body.
He was glad when the time came and he could tell her that he was goingdown to The Corner to find Jack Landis and bring him to her. She rose towatch him go and he heard her say "Come soon!"
It shocked Donnegan into realization that for all her calm exterior shewas perfectly aware of the danger of her position in the wild miningcamp. She must know, also, that her reputation would be compromised; yetnever once had she winced, and Donnegan was filled with wonder as hewent down the hill toward the camp which was spread beneath him; fortheir tents were a little detached from the main body of the town.Behind her gentle eyes, he now felt, and under the softness of hervoice, there was the same iron nerve that was in her father. Her hatredcould be a deathless passion, and her love also; and the great questionto be answered now was, did she truly love Jack Landis?
The Corner at night was like a scene at a circus. There was the samerush of people, the same irregular flush of lights, the same glimmer oflanterns through canvas, the same air of impermanence. Once, in one ofthose hushes which will fall upon every crowd, he heard a coyote wailingsharply and far away, as though the desert had sent out this voice tomock at The Corner and all it contained.
He had only to ask once to discover where Landis was: Milligan's dancehall. Before Milligan's place a bonfire burned from the beginning ofdusk to the coming of day; and until the time when that fire wasquenched with buckets of water, it was a sign to all that the merrimentwas under way in the dance hall. If Lebrun's was the sun of theamusement world in The Corner, Milligan's was the moon. Everybody whohad money to lose went to Lebrun's. Every one who was out for gayetywent to Milligan's. Milligan was a plunger. He had brought up anorchestra which demanded fifteen dollars a day and he paid them that andmore. He not only was able to do this, but he established a bar at theentrance from which all who entered were served with a free drink. Theentrance, also, was not subject to charge. The initial drink at the doorwas spiced to encourage thirst, so Milligan made money as fast, and farmore easily, than if he had been digging it out of the ground.
To the door of this pleasure emporium came Donnegan. He had transformedhimself into the ragged hobo by the jerking down of his cap again, andthe hunching of his shoulders. And shrinking past the bar with a hungrysidewise glance, as one who did not dare present himself for freeliquor, he entered Milligan's.
That is, he had put his foot across the threshold when he was caughtroughly by the shoulder and dragged to one side. He found himselflooking up into the face of a strapping fellow who served Milligan asbouncer. Milligan had an eye for color. Andy Lewis was tolerably wellknown as a fighting man of parts, who not only wore two guns but coulduse them both at once, which is much more difficult than is generallyunderstood. But far more than for his fighting parts Milligan hired hisbouncer for the sake of his face. It was a countenance made todiscourage trouble makers. A mule had kicked Lewis in the chin, and agreat white welt deformed his lower lip. Scars of smallpox added to hisdecorative effect, and he had those extremely bushy brows which for somereason are generally considered to denote ferocity. Now, Donnegan wasnot above middle height at best, and in his present shrinking attitudehe found himself looking up a full head into the formidable face of thebouncer.
"And what are you doing in here?" asked the genial Andy. "Don't you knowthis joint is for white folks?"
"I ain't colored," murmured Donnegan.
"You took considerable yaller to me," declared Lewis. He straightwaychuckled, and his own keen appreciation of his wit softened hisexpression. "What you want?"
Donnegan shivered under his rags.
"I want to see Jack Landis," he said.
It had a wonderful effect upon the doorkeeper. Donnegan found that thevery name of Landis was a charm of power in The Corner.
"You want to see him?" he queried in amazement. "You?"
He looked Donnegan over again, and then grinned broadly, as if inanticipation. "Well, go ahead. There he sits--no, he's dancing."
The music was in full swing; it was chiefly brass; but now and then, insofter moments, one could hear a violin squeaking uncertainly. At leastit went along with a marked, regular rhythm, and the dancers swirledindustriously around the floor. A very gay crowd; color was apparentlyappreciated in The Corner. And Donnegan, standing modestly out of sightbehind a pillar until the dance ended, noted twenty phases of life intwenty faces. And Donnegan saw the flushes of liquor, and heard the loudvoices of happy fellows who had made their "strikes"; but in all thatbrilliant crew he had no trouble in picking out Jack Landis and NellyLebrun.
They danced together, and where they passed, the others steered a littleoff so as to give them room on the dance floor, as if the men fearedthat they might cross the formidable Landis, and as if the women fearedto be brought into too close comparison with Nelly Lebrun. She was,indeed, a brilliant figure. She had eyes of the Creole duskiness, adelicate olive skin, with a pastel coloring. The hand on the shoulder ofLandis was a thing of fairy beauty. And her eyes had that peculiarquality of seeming to see everything, and rest on every faceparticularly. So that, as she whirled toward Donnegan, he winced,feeling that she had found him out among the shadows.
She had a glorious partner to set her off. And Donnegan saw bitterlywhy Lou Macon could love him. Height without clumsiness, bulk and alight foot at once, a fine head, well poised, blond hair and a Grecianprofile--such was Jack Landis. He wore a vest of fawn skin; his bootswere black in the foot and finished with the softest red leather for theleg. And he had yellow buckskin trousers, laced in a Mexican fashionwith silver at the sides; a narrow belt, a long, red silk handkerchiefflying from behind his neck in cowboy fashion. So much flashingsplendor, even in that gay assembly, would have been childishlyconspicuous on another man. But in big Jack
Landis there was patently agreat deal of the unaffected child. He was having a glorious time onthis evening, and his eye roved the room challenging admiration in amanner that was amusing rather than offensive. He was so overflowinglyproud of having the prettiest girl in The Corner upon his arm and soconscious of being himself probably the finest-looking man that heescaped conceit, it might almost be said, by his very excess of it.
Upon this splendid individual, then, the obscure Donnegan bent his gaze.He saw the dancers pause and scatter as the music ended, saw them driftto the tables along the edges of the room, saw the scurry of waitershurrying drinks up in the interval, saw Nelly Lebrun sip a lemonade, sawJack Landis toss off something stronger. And then Donnegan skirtedaround the room and came to the table of Jack Landis at the very momentwhen the latter was tossing a gold piece to the waiter and giving a neworder.
Prodigal sons in the distance of thought are apt to be both silly: anddisgusting, but at close hand they usually dazzle the eye. Even the coldbrain of Donnegan was daunted a little as he drew near.
He came behind the chair of the tall master of The Corner, and whileNelly Lebrun stopped her glass halfway to her lips and stared at theragged stranger, Donnegan was whispering in the ear of Jack Landis:"I've got to see you alone."
Landis turned his head slowly and his eye darkened a little as he metthe reddish, unshaven face of the stranger. Then, with a careless shrugof distaste, he drew out a few coins and poured them into Donnegan'spalm; the latter pocketed them.
"Lou Macon," said Donnegan.
Jack Landis rose from his chair, and it was not until he stood so closeto Donnegan that the latter realized the truly Herculean proportions ofthe young fellow. He bowed his excuses to Nelly Lebrun, not withoutgrace of manner, and then huddled Donnegan into a corner with a wave ofhis vast arm.
"Now what do you want? Who are you? Who put that name in your mouth?"
"She's in The Corner," said Donnegan, and he dwelt upon the face of JackLandis with feverish suspense. A moment later a great weight had slippedfrom his heart. If Lou Macon loved Landis it was beyond peradventurethat Landis was not breaking his heart because of the girl. For at hername he flushed darkly, and then, that rush of color fading, he was leftwith a white spot in the center of each cheek.