The Trail to Yesterday

  CHAPTER VIII

  SHEILA FANS A FLAME

  Sheila departed from the quicksand crossing nursing her wrath against theman who had rescued her, feeling bitterly vindictive against him, yetaware that the Dakota who had saved her life was not the Dakota whom shehad feared during her adventure with him in his cabin on the night of herarrival in the country. He had changed, and though she assured herselfthat she despised him more than ever, she found a grim amusement in therecollection of his manner immediately following the rescue, and in areview of the verbal battle, in which she had been badly worsted.

  His glances had had in them the quality of inward mirth and satisfactionwhich is most irritating, and behind his pretended remorse she could see apleasure over her dilemma which made her yearn to inflict punishment uponhim that would cause him to ask for mercy. His demeanor had said plainlythat if she wished to have the marriage set aside all well and good--hewould offer no objection. But neither would he take the initiative.Decidedly, it was a matter in which she should consult her own desires.

  It was late in the afternoon when she rode up to the Double R corral gatesand was met there by her father and Duncan. Langford had been worried, hesaid, and was much concerned over her appearance. In the presence ofDuncan Sheila told him the story of her danger and subsequent rescue byDakota and she saw his eyes narrow with a strange light.

  "Dakota!" he said. "Isn't that the chap who shot that half-breed over inLazette the day I came?"

  To Sheila's nod he ejaculated: "He's a trump!"

  "He is a brute!" As the words escaped her lips--she had not meant to utterthem--Sheila caught a glint in Duncan's eyes which told her that she hadechoed the latter's sentiments, and she felt almost like retracting thecharge. She had to bite her lips to resist the impulse.

  "A brute, eh?" laughed Langford. "It strikes me that I wouldn't socharacterize a man who had saved my life. The chances are that aftersaving you he didn't seem delighted enough, or he didn't smile to suityou, or----"

  "He ain't so awful much of a man," remarked Duncan disparagingly.

  Langford turned and looked at Duncan with a comprehending smile."Evidently you owe Dakota nothing, my dear Duncan," he said.

  The latter's face darkened, and with Sheila listening he told the story ofthe calf deal, which had indirectly brought about the death of Blanca.

  "For a long time we had suspected Texas Blanca of rustling," said Duncan,"but we couldn't catch him with the goods. Five years ago, after thespring round-up, I branded a bunch of calves with a secret mark, and thenwe rode sign on Blanca.

  "We had him then, for the calves disappeared and some of the boys foundsome of them in Blanca's corral, but we delayed, hoping he would run offmore, and while we were waiting he sold out to Dakota. We didn't know thatat the time; didn't find it out until we went over to take Blanca andfound Dakota living in his cabin. He had a bill of sale from Blanca allright, showing that he'd bought the calves from him. It looked regular,but we had our doubts, and Dakota and me came pretty near having a run-in.If the boys hadn't interfered----"

  He hesitated and looked at Sheila, and as her gaze met his steadily hiseyes wavered and a slow red came into his face, for the recollection ofwhat had actually occurred at the meeting between him and Dakota was notpleasant, and since that day Duncan had many times heard the word "Yellow"spoken in connection with his name--which meant that he lacked courage.

  "So he wasn't a rustler, after all?" said Sheila pleasantly. For somereason which she could not entirely explain, she suspected that Duncan hadleft many things out of his story of his clash with Dakota.

  "Well, no," admitted Duncan grudgingly.

  Sheila was surprised at the satisfaction she felt over this admission.Perhaps Duncan read her face as she had read his, for he frowned.

  "Him and Blanca framed up--making believe that Blanca had sold him theStar brand," he said venomously.

  "I don't believe it!" Sheila's eyes met Duncan's and the latter's wavered.She was not certain which gave her the thrill she felt--her defense ofDakota or Duncan's bitter rage over the exhibition of that defense.

  "He doesn't appear to me to be the sort of man who would steal cows," shesaid with a smile which made Duncan's teeth show. "Although," shecontinued significantly, "it does seem that he is the sort of man I wouldnot care to trifle with--if I were a man. You told me yourself, if youremember, that you were not taking any chances with him. And now youaccuse him. If I were you," she warned, "I would be more careful--I wouldkeep from saying things which I could not prove."

  "Meaning that I'm afraid of him, I reckon?" sneered Duncan.

  Sheila looked at him, her eyes alight with mischief. That day on the edgeof the butte overlooking the river, when Duncan had talked about Dakota,she had detected in his manner an inclination to belittle the latter;several times since then she had heard him speak venomously of him, andshe had suspected that all was not smooth between them. And now sinceDuncan had related the story of the calf incident she was certain that therelations between the two men were strained to the point of open rupture.Duncan had bothered her, had annoyed her with his attentions, had adoptedtoward her an air of easy familiarity, which she had deeply resented, andshe yearned to humiliate him deeply.

  "Afraid?" She appeared to hesitate. "Well, no," she said, surveying himwith an appraising eye in which the mischief was partly concealed, "I donot believe that you are afraid. Perhaps you are merely careful where heis concerned. But I am certain that even if you were afraid of him youwould not refuse to take his pony back. I promised to send it back, youknow."

  A deep red suddenly suffused Duncan's face. A sharp, savage gleam in hiseyes--which Sheila met with a disarming smile--convinced her that he wasaware of her object. She saw also that he did not intend to allow her toforce him to perform the service.

  He bowed and regarded her with a shallow smile.

  "I will have one of the boys take the pony over to him the first thing inthe morning," he said.

  Sheila smiled sweetly. "Please don't bother," she said. "I wouldn't thinkof allowing one of the men to take the pony back. Perhaps I shall decideto ride over that way myself. I should not care to have you meet Dakota ifyou are afraid of him."

  Her rippling laugh caused the red in Duncan's face to deepen, but she gavehim no time to reply, for directly she had spoken she turned and walkedtoward the ranchhouse. Both Duncan and Langford watched her until she hadvanished, and then Langford turned to Duncan.

  "What on earth have you done to her?" he questioned.

  But Duncan was savagely pulling the saddle from Dakota's pony and did notanswer.

  Sheila really had no expectation of prevailing upon Duncan to returnDakota's horse, and had she anticipated that the manager would accept herchallenge she would not have given it, for after thinking over theincident of her rescue she had come to the conclusion that she had nottreated Dakota fairly, and by personally taking his horse to him she wouldhave an opportunity to proffer her tardy thanks for his service. She didnot revert to the subject of the animal's return during the evening meal,however, nor after it when she and her father and Duncan sat on thegallery of the ranchhouse enjoying the cool of the night breezes.

  After breakfast on the following morning she was standing near thewindmill, watching the long arms travel lazily in their wide circles, whenshe saw Duncan riding away from the ranchhouse, leading Dakota's pony. Shestarted toward the corral gates, intending to call to him to return, butthought better of the impulse and hailed him tauntingly instead:

  "Please tell him to accept my thanks," she said, and Duncan turned hishead, bowed mockingly, and continued on his way.

  Half an hour after the departure of Duncan Sheila pressed a loafingpuncher into service and directed him to rope a gentle pony for her. Afterthe puncher had secured a suitable appearing animal and had placed asaddle and bridle on it, she compelled him to ride it several times aroundthe confines of the pasture to make certain that it would not "buck." Thenshe mounted and rode up t
he river.

  Duncan was not particularly pleased over his errand, and many times whilehe rode the trail toward Dakota's cabin his lips moved from his teeth in asnarl. Following the incident of the theft of the calves by Blanca, Duncanhad taken pains to insinuate publicly that Dakota's purchase of the Starfrom the half-breed had been a clever ruse to avert suspicion, intimatingthat a partnership existed between Dakota and Blanca. The shooting ofBlanca by Dakota, however, had exploded this charge, and until now Duncanhad been very careful to avoid a meeting with the man whom he hadmaligned.

  During the night he had given much thought to the circumstance which wassending him to meet his enemy. He had a suspicion that Sheila hadpurposely taunted him with cowardice--that in all probability Dakotahimself had suggested the plan in order to force a meeting with him. Thisthought suggested another. Sheila's defense of Dakota seemed to indicatethat a certain intimacy existed between them. He considered thiscarefully, and with a throb of jealously concluded that Dakota's action insaving Sheila's life would very likely pave the way for a closeracquaintance.

  Certainly, in spite of Sheila's remark about Dakota being a "brute," shehad betrayed evidence of admiration for the man. In that case her veiledallusions to his own fear of meeting Dakota were very likely founded onsomething which Dakota had told her, and certainly anything which Dakotamight have said about him would not be complimentary. Therefore his rageagainst both Sheila and his enemy was bitter when he finally rode up tothe door of the latter's cabin.

  There was hope in his heart that Dakota might prove to be absent, andwhen, after calling once and receiving no answer, he dismounted andhitched Dakota's pony to a rail of the corral fence, there was a smile ofsatisfaction on his face.

  He took plenty of time to hitch the pony; he even lingered at the corralbars, leaning on them to watch several steers which were inside theenclosure. He found time, too, in spite of his fear of his enemy, to sneerover the evidences of prosperity which were on every hand. He wascongratulating himself on his good fortune in reaching Dakota's cabinduring a time when the latter was absent, when he heard a slight soundbehind him. He turned rapidly, to see Dakota standing in the doorway ofthe cabin, watching him with cold, level eyes, one of his heavysix-shooters in hand.

  Duncan's face went slowly pale. He did not speak at once and when he didhe was surprised at his hoarseness.

  "I've brought your cayuse back," he said finally.

  "So I see," returned Dakota. His eyes glinted with a cold humor, thoughthey were still regarding Duncan with an alertness which the other couldnot mistake.

  "So I see," repeated Dakota. His slow drawl was in evidence again. "Idon't recollect, though, that I sent word to have _you_ bring him back."

  "I wasn't tickled to death over the job," returned Duncan.

  Now that his first surprise was over and Dakota had betrayed no sign ofresenting his visit, Duncan felt easier. There had been a slight sneer inhis voice when he answered.

  "That isn't surprising," returned Dakota. "There never was a time when youwere tickled a heap to stick your nose into my affairs." His smile frozeDuncan.

  "I ain't looking for trouble," said the latter, with a perfect knowledgeof Dakota's peculiar expression.

  "Then why did you come over here? I reckon there wasn't anyone else tosend my horse over by?" said Dakota, his voice coming with a truculentsnap.

  Duncan flushed. "Sheila Langford sent me," he admitted reluctantly.

  Dakota's eyes lighted with incredulity. "I reckon you're a liar," he saidwith cold emphasis.

  Duncan's gaze went to the pistol in Dakota's hand and his lips curled. Heknew that he was perfectly safe so long as he made no hostile move, for inspite of his derogatory remarks about the man he was aware that he neverused his weapons without provocation.

  Therefore he forced a smile. "You ain't running no Blanca deal on me," hesaid. "Calling me a liar ain't going to get no rise out of me. But shesent me, just the same. I reckon, liking you as I do, that I ought to beglad she gave me the chance to come over and see you, but I ain't. We wasgassing about you and she told me I was scared to bring your cayuse back."He laughed mirthlessly. "I reckon I've proved that I ain't any scared."

  "No," said Dakota with a cold grin, "you ain't scared. You know that therewon't be any shooting done unless you get careless with that gun youcarry." His eyes were filled with a whimsical humor, but they were stillalert, as he watched Duncan's face for signs of insincerity. He saw nosuch signs and his expression became mocking. "So she sent you over here?"he said, and his was the voice of one enemy enjoying some subtle advantageover another. "Why, I reckon you're a kind of handy man to havearound--sort of ladies' man--running errands and such."

  Duncan's face bloated with anger, but he dared not show open resentment.For behind Dakota's soft voice and gentle, over-polite manner, he felt thedeep rancor for whose existence he alone was responsible. So, trying tohold his passions in check, he grinned at Dakota, significantly,insinuatingly, unable finally to keep the bitter hatred and jealousy outof his voice. For in the evilness of his mind he had drawn many imaginarypictures of what had occurred between Dakota and Sheila immediately afterher rescue by the latter.

  "I reckon," he said hoarsely, "that you take a heap of interest inSheila."

  "That's part of your business, I suppose?" Dakota's voice was suddenlyhard.

  Duncan had decided to steer carefully away from any trouble with Dakota;he had even decided that as a measure for his own safety he must saynothing which would be likely to arouse Dakota's anger, but the jealousthoughts in his mind had finally gotten the better of prudence, and themenace in Dakota's voice angered him.

  "I reckon," he said with a sneer, "that I ain't as much interested in heras you are."

  He started back, his lips tightening over his teeth in a snarl of alarmand fear, for Dakota had stepped down from the doorway and was at hisside, his eyes narrowed with cold wrath.

  "Meaning what?" he demanded harshly, sharply, for he imagined that perhapsSheila had told of her marriage to him, and the thought that Duncan shouldhave been selected by her to share the secret maddened him.

  "Meaning what, you damned coyote?" he insisted, stepping closer toDuncan.

  "Meaning that she ain't admiring you for nothing," flared Duncanincautiously, his jealously overcoming his better judgment. "Meaning thatany woman which has been pulled out of a quicksand like you pulled her outmight be expected to favor you with----"

  The sunlight flashed on Dakota's pistol as it leaped from his right handto his left and was bolstered with a jerk. And with the same motion hisclenched fist was jammed with savage force against Duncan's lips, cuttingshort the slanderous words and sending him in a heap to the dust of thecorral yard.

  With a cry of rage Duncan grasped for his pistol and drew it out, but thehand holding it was stamped violently into the earth, the arm bent andtwisted until the fingers released the weapon. And then Dakota stood overhim, looking down at him with narrowed, chilling eyes, his face white andhard, his anger gone as quickly as it had come. He said no word whileDuncan clambered awkwardly to his feet and mounted his horse.

  DUNCAN GRASPED FOR HIS PISTOL, BUT THE HAND HOLDINGIT WAS STAMPED VIOLENTLY INTO THE EARTH.]

  "I'm telling you something," he said quietly, as Duncan lifted the reinswith his uninjured hand, turning his horse to depart. "You and me havenever hitched very well and there isn't any chance of us ever falling oneach other's necks. I think what I've done to you about squares us forthat calf deal. I've been yearning to hand you something before you leftthe country, but I didn't expect you'd give me the chance in just thisway. I'm warning you that the next time you shove your coyote nose into mybusiness I'll muss it up some. That applies to Miss Sheila. If I ever hearof you getting her name on your dirty tongue again I'll tear you apart. Ireckon that's all." He drew his pistol and balanced it in his right hand."It makes me feel some reckless to be talking to you," he added, a glintof intolerance in his eyes. "You'd better travel before I change
my mind.

  "You don't need to mention this to Miss Sheila," he said mockingly, asDuncan urged his horse away from the corral gate; "just let her goon--thinking you're a man."