CHAPTER XX

  NARROWING THE QUEST

  That evening, while they sat and smoked on the little porch, CurtisConrad told Homer of his lifelong quest. It was the younger man's firstknowledge of the motive that had been so potent in his brother's life.He listened in silence while his pipe went out, and sat quite stillafter the other ceased. "Well, Curt," he said at last, with a littletremor in his voice, "this yarn of yours knocks me silly. I can't sayI'm pleased with it, at least at first view. It doesn't seem sensible."

  Curtis laughed good-naturedly. "Very likely, Homer; I didn't expect itto appeal forcibly to a sensible, practical chap like you. I haven'ttold you before because there was no use bothering your young head withit when the round-up seemed so far away; but I'm mighty near the end ofthe trail now, and you've come to a man's age and ways of thinking; so Ithought it best to tell you. There's a possibility, of course, thatI'll get the worst of it when the mix-up does come; and in that case I'dlike you to know what it was all about. But I'm not considering thatsort of chance as likely to happen."

  "But what do you expect to gain by it, Curt, and why do you want to killthe man?"

  Curtis slowly lighted a fresh cigar. "Well, Homer, if you don't see why,it's no use for me to explain."

  "I know there's a big difference between us temperamentally; but I don'tbelieve that would keep me from appreciating your motive if it had anybasis in right or expediency. Good God, Curt, look at the thingsensibly! Suppose you kill the man when you find him. What earthly goodwill that do you? You'd probably hang for it, or go to the penitentiaryfor years. And it seems to me the chance is all the other way. Whoeverthe man is, he must know you're after him; and you'll find him ready andloaded. If you're not killed you're likely to be badly wounded--perhapslose an eye or a leg--and what can you gain by it? Bless me if I can seeany use or sense or right in the whole business."

  Curtis Conrad rose and walked slowly and with bent head the length ofthe porch and back, his hand resting for an instant on his brother'sshoulder as he passed. He stood regarding abstractedly the lightningthat was playing among some low-lying clouds above the HatchetMountains, far to the southwest. "One night, soon after father andmother died," he began, in a tone so low that Homer could barely catchhis words, "I lay awake almost all night, thinking. You were a littleshaver barely out of kilts, the girls were young things with theirdresses half way to their knees, and I was only fifteen. I had taken youinto bed with me because I was afraid you'd wake up in the night andfeel lonesome--and, perhaps, because I didn't want to feel quite solonesome myself. I made plans for hours about how we could get along andthe things I meant to do. You tossed in your sleep, and threw one ofyour hands against mine. My fingers closed over it, and you gripped oneof them fast. Somehow, that grip went to my heart, and I promised myselfand you that I would do all I could to make up to you the loss we hadsuffered. I thought of what father had planned for me; and I knew that Ishould have to give all that up. As I thought of the man who had robbedus of everything--money, opportunity, father and mother--I trembled withanger.

  "I had never used an oath until that night. But I sat on the side of mybed, when I couldn't lie still any longer, and clenched my fists andcursed him, mildly at first and under my breath, then aloud and in thereddest language I could think of. As I damned his soul to the hottestcorner of hell it seemed to me that he ought to be made to suffer inthis life, too, and I said aloud, 'I would like to kill you!' The wordssounded so plain that they frightened me. But I said them over again,and the next moment the thought leaped up, 'And I will, too, if I live!'That was how the idea was born in my mind. It struck root and grew, andI've held to it ever since."

  Homer nodded. "Yes; I can understand how you would hold to a thing you'dmade up your mind to do; I'd hold on just the same way. We've both gotthe bull-dog grip; it's one of the Conrad characteristics. But even abull-dog can let go when he knows he shouldn't hold on any longer."

  Curtis smiled grimly. "Not always; sometimes you have to pry his jawsloose. Nevertheless, I could let go if I wanted to. But I don't wantto, and I don't propose to. The thing has become part of my life, of me,of my very blood."

  "Have you been working at it all this time, Curt?"

  "Oh, of course I couldn't do much while I was a boy except to think andbrood over it. But during that time I learned all I could aboutDelafield, his schemes, and his personality. I read every newspaper Icould lay hold of that had anything in it about him; I've got them allyet. But I didn't do much in the way of actually chasing him down untilafter the girls were married ten years ago. After that I earned andsaved more money, and was free to go about as I wanted. Since then I'vespent all the time and money I could spare in hunting him.

  "I had a schoolmate named Littleton who became a detective when he grewup. We were good friends, and when he happened to find out that I wasnosing around in my own way he offered to help me. I was to pay him whatI could, and he would put in time on this when he had nothing else todo. Between us we tracked Delafield all over the West and into Canada,back and forth, and under nearly a dozen different names. I don't thinkhe got as much money out of his Boston smash as he was charged withtaking, but he got a good lot; and he's since made and lost two or threegood-sized fortunes. Most of the time he has been a mining expert, andhas owned and dealt in mines; the fact that he's stuck pretty close tothat business has made it easier to follow him. Once, in Arizona, welost the trail completely. It was as if the earth had opened andswallowed him; for a while we thought he must be dead. Later wediscovered his tracks in Utah, under a new name. Since then there havebeen several gaps of that sort; but we've always managed to light on himagain after a while.

  "My last knowledge of him is that he is living somewhere in thisTerritory, a well-to-do and respected citizen, prominent in politics,and a supporter of Dellmey Baxter for Congress. The rest of it will beeasy; there'll be a quick chase and an early show-down before there'stime for another deal. I've got my eye on two men, both of whom fit thatdescription. They live up North, and I'm going up to Albuquerque andSanta Fe next week to look up their records. If it's either one ofthem, Delafield will meet his deserts before he's many days older."

  Silence fell upon them. Curtis leaned against a pillar of the porch andwatched the clouds rising higher over the mountains. "It looks as if therainy season is about to begin at last," he said in a matter-of-factway. Homer rose and stood with a hand on his shoulder. They looked somuch alike in the moonlight that at a little distance it would have beendifficult to say which was the younger and which the elder brother.

  "I don't need to tell you, Curt," he said in a tone rich with earnestfeeling, "how grateful I am for all you've done for me, nor how well Iknow at what cost to yourself you've done it. You've been father andmother and brother and best friend to me all in one. If I ever doanything worth while the credit will be yours quite as much as mine. Youknow I'm not ungrateful or unappreciative, don't you, Curt? I canunderstand how this thing has come to obsess you, since you've explainedhow it took root in your mind before your ethical ideas were settled.But I can't sympathize with you in this search after vengeance, and Ican't approve of what you are planning to do. It seems to me you oughtto be able to see things straight by this time and shake off yourobsession. If you want to find the man and hand him over to the properauthorities--that's all right; I'd help you in that myself; it's rightthat he should be punished and made to give up what he has to hiscreditors. But to take revenge into your own hands, Curt, and to take itat the cost of everything desirable for yourself--why, the thing is somad that it bewilders me to think it's you that's doing it. I wish Icould persuade you to give it up."

  Curtis shook his head emphatically. "You needn't waste your breath,Homer. I rather hoped you'd understand better how I feel about it, andsee the whole affair a little more as it looks to me. But you'redifferent; and if you can't, you can't, and that's all there is aboutit. But it's useless to try to persuade me to give up my plans. A thingthat you've thought about and d
reamt about and planned and worked forthrough fifteen years gets to be part of your very blood, my boy, andit's not so easily cast aside."

  "Well," said Homer, "you are you; and if you've got to do this thing Isuppose it can't be helped." He paused, thinking intently. "But whenyou go North next week--if one of those men proves to be Delafield--youwon't--at once--" He stumbled over his words, unable to put hisbrother's purpose into plain speech.

  Curtis took up his meaning. "No; not immediately. I've got to come homeagain first."

  "Then you'll be back here before you do anything? That's sure, is it,Curt?" asked Homer, relief in his voice.

  "Yes; sure. I've got some important business that I promised theCastletons I'd attend to the week after, and I'll take no chances till Iget that fixed up for them."

  The next morning there was a promise of rain in the air and the sky. Adome of pale, bright gray, resting on murky supports of cloud, had takenthe place of the usual heaven of vivid blue. But the wind, blowing warmand strong from the west, bore little moisture upon its wings, and theair was laden with an electric tingle that stretched and jarredunaccustomed nerves.

  Hank Peters and Jose Gonzalez were working in the corral when CurtisConrad came across from the door of his room to give them somedirections. Presently he asked if they or any of the boys had seenanything lately of the gray wolf that had skulked about the neighborhoodearlier in the season. Nosey Ike, they said, had seen it only the daybefore in the second draw on the road toward Golden.

  "He did?" exclaimed Curtis. "I'm going to Golden to-day, and perhaps Ican get a crack at it. I'll be home by six o'clock, Peters, and I wantto talk with you to-night about some work at Adobe Springs to-morrow.But to-day's Sunday, boys, and we've come finally where we can stop andtake breath once a week. You fellows can do anything you like to-day."

  Peters thought he'd sleep all day, for he hadn't caught up since thebarbecue; but Jose wanted to visit a Mexican family who had a littleranch beside a spring on the road to Golden.

  "All right," said the superintendent. "Take whichever one of the poniesyou want, but be sure to get back to-night."

  "Curt," said Homer when they sat down to breakfast, "if you're not goingto use Brown Betty to-day, would you mind if I rode her over to Golden?Or wouldn't you like to go with me? I'm going to call at the Bancrofts'to see if Miss Bancroft has recovered from the shock she had the othernight."

  Curtis hesitated a moment as he poured their coffee, his own plan risingbefore him invitingly. But he remembered how pleased the two youngpeople had seemed to be with each other and recalled his own resolution:"Let the lad have a fair field," he thought.

  "Brown Betty? Certainly, Homer," was his reply. "I'll see that she'sready for you. I can't go because I must ride down to Adobe Springs tosee about some work the boys must do there to-morrow. Give my regards tothe Bancrofts. By the way, Mrs. Ned Castleton gave me a message for MissBancroft that I'll let you deliver."

  As Homer mounted for his journey he cast an anxious glance at thewet-looking clouds against which rose the purple-blue, statuesque massesof the Mogollon Mountains, and asked, "Is it going to rain?"

  "It will sure rain in the mountains," replied his brother, "if it isn'tpouring down by the bucketful there already. There may be a shower inGolden, but the creek will get on the rampage anyway, and maybe carryaway some of the bridges. We shan't get any here right away, but it'scoming, thank God! I tell you, Homer, it's been a cruel thing to see thecattle dying like flies on account of the drouth. For a while lastSpring I thought of throwing up this job, I hated so to see thesuffering of the poor brutes."

  For a while all the man in Curtis Conrad clamored in revolt as hegalloped southward across the silent, empty plain and thought of Lucysmiling a welcome from her veranda steps--and not upon him. His lovecalled imperiously, demanding that he make trial of its strength. Shouldhe give up the girl he loved without an effort, even though his rival behis brother? The primeval man in him was quick with the desire to takeher in his arms and bear her away from all the world. But it was notlong until he was saying grimly to himself, "What have I to do withlove-making and winning a wife? The Delafield affair is my business, andI'd better stick to it."

  He pondered over the conversation with his brother on the previousevening, feeling more keenly Homer's condemnation of his purpose. Heremembered that every one with whom he had spoken about the matter hadsought to dissuade him. Bancroft disapproved, and had begged him manytimes to desist. Miss Dent called it unworthy of him. Now his brother,upon whose sympathy he had counted, condemned both his feeling and hisintention. Nevertheless, he was surely right. It was easy for them totalk, for they had not suffered from the man's crimes, they had notstruggled as he had, and they had not spent years in the effort to findDelafield and cast his sins in his face. But still, his cherishedpurpose had lost a little of its savor. He thought of his journeynorthward, which he so ardently hoped would consummate his years ofeffort and desire, and there was not quite the usual pleasure in hismental forecast. He put the thought of Lucy behind him and went overonce more that early struggle and the birth of his purpose, brought morevividly to mind by the talk with Homer, and soon the old ideas andintentions recovered their accustomed sway. By the time he gallopedhomeward in the late afternoon his indignation was once more hot andseething and his mind full of zest for his approaching journey.

  He found Homer in the corral unsaddling Brown Betty and humming acollege tune. "Say, Curt, I think I'll go hunting to-morrow," said theyoung man as they walked across to the house. "I want to see if I can'tget a shot at that gray wolf you've been telling me about. As I wascoming home your Mexican cowboy had sighted it not far from the road, inthat valley beyond the hill yonder, and was just about to shoot when Ihad the bad luck to come along and scare the thing away."

  Curtis looked up with quick interest. "Jose? What was he doing? Did heshoot?"

  "He jumped from his hiding-place just as I came along, so suddenly thatthe mare shied and nearly threw me. He was just ready to shoot--he saidthe beast was only a little way down the draw--and saw me barely in timeto throw up his revolver and send it off at the sky. By that time, ofcourse, the wolf was out of sight. I'm going back there at daybreakto-morrow to see if I can get a crack at it."

  Just then Gonzalez came riding into the corral, and Curtis moved hischair to the doorway, in front of his brother. "All right, Homer, I wishyou would," he said; "it would be just a tenderfoot's luck, you know, ifyou should get it." He was rolling a cigarette, but keeping one eye onJose, who was caring for his horse. "Was there much rain in Goldento-day?" he asked.

  "Yes; quite a storm, with lots of fireworks; I never saw such lightningor heard such thunder in my life. There must have been a flood fartherup in the mountains, for the creek came down that ravine fairly booming,just as you said it would. It swept away one of the bridges and washedout parts of the foundations of two or three houses. But it soon wentdown again."

  "Was the bank building injured?" Curtis asked, still following withnarrowed eyes the movements of Gonzalez. "It's in a dangerous spot if areally bad flood ever does come down that valley."

  "The First National? That's Bancroft's bank, isn't it? Yes; it lost somebricks out of the foundation, and the ground was washed away a little.Nothing of consequence."

  "Well, that has happened several times already; some of these days itwill happen once too often. Long ago, I'm told, the street and sidewalkhad to be moved to the other side of the houses for a block or two alongthere. You remember the creek elbows toward the bank. If a great mass ofwater ever comes down that canyon it will rush straight against theside of the building--and the lives of whoever happens to be insidewon't be worth two switches of a cow's tail."

  "I talked with Mr. Bancroft about that possibility to-day," said Homer,"and he doesn't think the situation is dangerous."

  "Yes; nobody in Golden believes there's any danger. And they may beright. They say there isn't as much rain now as there used to be, andthat cloud-bursts of any
consequence are as rare as six-legged calves.It will all depend on the weather."

  The next morning Jose Gonzalez was hitching up to drive the men to AdobeSprings when Conrad walked up, leaned carelessly against the wheel, andlooked him in the eye. The Mexican returned the gaze unflinchingly butrespectfully. "Jose," said Curtis in a low tone, "you made a mistakeabout that wolf last night, didn't you? It wasn't the wolf you thoughtit was when you made ready to shoot, was it?"

  An amused gleam lighted for an instant Jose's sombre eyes. "It mighthave been as you say, Don Curtis," he answered cautiously.

  "I don't want any might-have-beens; I want to know if you are making waron my brother as well as on me. It's all right about me, but I won'thave anything of the sort where he's concerned. I want the truth, Jose.Is anything of the kind going to happen again?"

  Gonzalez looked at Conrad squarely as he earnestly replied: "It was amistake, Don Curtis; I swear to you it was a mistake. Your brother looksmuch like you, it was your mare, and you had said you would be back fromGolden about that hour. I saw it was Don Homer barely in time. Afterthis I shall be more careful."

  Conrad grinned at the closing sentence, and the Mexican scarcelyrepressed an answering smile. "Well, I am going away to-day," saidCurtis, "to be gone for several days. So it won't be necessary for youto make any mistakes while I'm gone."

  Jose looked up in quick alarm. "You are not going to Don Dellmey?" heexclaimed. "He is not the one who wishes your death!"

  "What do you say, Jose?" the other demanded, starting forward eagerly.

  "I swear to you by the Mother of God, Don Curtis," said the Mexican,with voice intense and manner most earnest, "that it is not Senor Baxterwho desires your death."

  "Are you speaking the truth, Jose?"

  "I will swear it on the crucifix, Don Curtis!"

  Conrad gazed at him steadfastly, and the conviction entered his mindthat Gonzalez was speaking the truth. A look of puzzled wonderoverspread his face. "In the name of God, then, who is it?" he said,half aloud. The Mexican shrugged a shoulder and turned away.

  "Who can it be?" the manager repeated, to himself, but still loud enoughfor the other to hear. "It must be Delafield!" he exclaimed. Jose's earcaught the words, and he listened as his employer went on: "He knows I'mafter him, and he's trying to kill me first. If I could only make this_coyote_ greaser tell me who his _patron_ is, I'd know who Delafield is.I'd like to choke it out of you, you son of perdition!" He looked sofiercely at Gonzalez that the Mexican took a threatening step forward.

  "You needn't worry," Conrad exclaimed contemptuously. "I know youwouldn't tell, even if I choked the life out of you trying to make youpeach. It's your _patron_ I'm after." Jose stooped to hitch the traces,and Curtis broke out impulsively: "I say, Jose, what makes you do thissort of thing? You're as square as they make 'em in most things; why doyou go into this damned rattlesnake business?"

  Gonzalez looked up with a confiding smile.

  "The _patron_ wishes it; and why not? If I kill a man he gets me off ifhe can, and then that is all right. If he can't, I pay for it inprison--and that is fair."

  "Huh!" grunted the superintendent as he walked away. "So you think youare going to pay for me that way, do you? Well, I guess not!"

  The same train that carried Conrad northward to Santa Fe carried also abrief and hurried letter to Dellmey Baxter which Jose Gonzalez had foundtime to write before he and the rest started for Adobe Springs, mailingit as they passed White Rock station.

  "You will see Senor Conrad in Santa Fe," the Congressman read in hisoffice the next morning, "but you need not be anxious. I have sworn tohim that it is not you who desires his death, and he believes me. Iheard him speak to himself, and he said it must be Delafeel who wisheshim dead. He said he would like to choke out of me who my _patron_ is,for then he would know who Delafeel is. Don Curtis is a very brave man.I like him much."

  Baxter chuckled over the closing sentences as he tore the letter intobits. Poking them musingly with a fat forefinger he thought: "It's asure bet that his _patron_ just now is Aleck Bancroft; and that makes itlook as if Aleck might be this mysterious Delafeel--I'll have to findout who Delafeel is and what he's done some time or other; then I surereckon I'll have a cinch on Aleck that will keep him from trying to stepinto my shoes as long as I want him to keep out." He looked out of hiswindow into the little tree-filled plaza, cool and green in the morningsunlight, and saw Curtis Conrad walking across it from the hotel on theother side. He took a six-shooter from his pocket, made sure of itscartridges, and replaced it. From a drawer in his desk he took another,examined its chambers, and laid it on his desk, under an open newspaper.A moment later he was rising from his chair with outstretched hand andbeaming smile.

  "Why, how do you do, Mr. Conrad! I'm sure glad to see you. How did youleave things down in old Silverside? That was a high old time we had atthe barbecue, wasn't it? Have the Castletons gone yet? A fine figure ofa woman is Mrs. Turner Castleton! And I tell you right now it was agreat shave she gave me!" The Honorable Dellmey Baxter rubbed his cheek,and chuckled. But his right hand rested on his desk, close beside thenewspaper which he had apparently just thrown down.

  "Mr. Baxter," said Conrad, ignoring the stream of questions and remarks,"some weeks ago I wrote you, saying frankly that I believed youresponsible for attempts against my life, made by a Mexican who had comefrom you to me. I find myself mistaken, and I have come to apologize toyou for my suspicions."

  "That's all right, Curt, that's all right!" Baxter broke in, reliefapparent in his countenance. "I'll admit I felt hurt by yourinsinuations, but as long as you've found out you were wrong and arewilling to do me the justice of saying so, it's not worth speaking ofagain."

  "Understand," Curtis went on, "that I'm not taking back or apologizingfor anything else I've said about you, and I'm still shouting for JohnnyMartinez for Congress."

  "Johnny is to be congratulated for having your support," Baxterrejoined genially; "I wish I could get it away from him. Has that measlygreaser made any more attempts on your life, my dear Conrad? You're toogood a citizen for the Territory to lose in that way."

  Curtis smiled carelessly. "I don't think my life is in any danger. Nodamned greaser will get the chance to stick me in the back when I've gotboth eyes shut and one foot tucked up in my feathers, if I'm onto hisgame. I don't care anything about Jose; it's his _patron_ I'm after."

  "His _patron_!" exclaimed Baxter in apparent surprise. "You don't meanto say that Jose's got a _patron_ in that business!" His visitor noddedand the Congressman went on: "You don't say so! I didn't suppose you hadan enemy in the Territory. This is interesting! We must get at thebottom of this, Mr. Conrad, for we can't afford to lose you. Have youany idea who's behind the greaser?"

  Curtis considered a moment. He might get some information from Baxterthat would help him; it would do no harm to speak cautiously. "Yes, andno, Mr. Baxter. I know who he used to be, but I don't know who he isnow. His name used to be Delafield, back in the States."

  "Delafield--Delafield," mused Baxter. He had got the conversation wherehe wanted it. "I don't remember having heard that name in New Mexico."

  "That hasn't been his name for a good many years. Don't you remember theDelafield affair in Boston, some fifteen years ago--Sumner L. Delafield,who made a big spread in the financial world, defaulted, and ran away?"

  "Why, of course!" The Congressman brought his fat fist down on the tablewith a thump. "The Delafield affair! Yes; I remember it, and howDelafield slid out and covered up his tracks completely. And you sayhe's living in New Mexico now?"

  "Yes; he's a rich, prominent, and respected citizen of New Mexico. But Ihaven't discovered which one of 'em, and he doesn't want me to find out.My father lost all he had in the smash."

  They talked a little longer, and Curtis learned enough about the historyof the two men he had in mind to be satisfied that neither of them wasthe one he sought.

  After Conrad went away, Baxter leaned back and folded his hands acrosshis w
aist-coat, his left eyelid drooping and his face beaming withsmiles. "Now," he thought, "I've got Aleck Bancroft exactly where he cando me the most good!"