CHAPTER XXI
CHANCE--AND A MAN
Della must have slept, for when she again opened her eyes the light hadbeen extinguished and a gray glow was coming through the north window.
Morning had come. She gathered the bedclothes around her and sat up,glancing around the cabin for Lawler. He must have gone out, for theheavy wooden bar had been removed from the door--it was standing in acorner. She suspected Lawler had gone out to care for the horses, andshe hurriedly got out of the bunk, ran to the door and barred it, andbegan to dress.
A fire roared in the fireplace, and it was warm in the cabin. But shenoted, with an interest that was almost calm, that the storm still ragedas furiously as the night before. There was this difference. Last nightthe wind had been driven against the cabin in fitful blasts, for themost part; now to her ears there came a ceaseless, droning hum with nointervals of silence between--a steady, vicious, incessant rushing roarthat made her fear the cabin walls could not long resist it.
When she thought of last night's tragedy it seemed almost remote toher--a thing that had happened long ago; an incident that time hadrobbed of its gruesomeness.
For she saw, now, that it had been inevitable--that Lawler had acted inself-defense. There had been no other way. She shuddered when shethought of the ghastly things that were lying under the windbreak; buther own comfort became instantly paramount, and she drew a chair closeto the fire and enjoyed its welcome warmth while dressing.
After dressing she got up from the chair and walked over to thechuck-box, smiling as she noted the bulging sides; her eyes glowing withsatisfaction when she lifted the lid and saw the well-filled interior.She paused before the shelf upon which reposed a supply of canned foods;and exclaimed with delight when she saw, affixed to the wall near thedoor, a piece of broken mirror. She spent some time looking into theglass, combing her hair with a fragment of comb she found on a shelfbeside the mirror.
She had finished when she heard a knock on the door. She removed thebar, and when Lawler stepped in, closing the door instantly to keep outthe rush of wind, she was standing in a corner, smiling demurely at him.
His face was grave, and he did not respond to her mood as he stoodthere, watching her.
"Well," she said, after a silence, during which his face did not changeexpression; "can't you say something complimentary?" She lifted her eyeschallengingly, as though to invite his inspection.
He saw that the tragedy had not affected her as it would have affectedsome women--his mother and Ruth Hamlin, for example--though he veiledthe reproof in his eyes with a smile. The vanity she exhibited, herself-interest, egotism disgusted him.
"You've found the mirror," he said. "Well, you look pretty well slickedup. What happened last night seems to have affected you very little."
"Why should it?" she demanded, defiantly. "I don't intend to brood overtwo men that I did not know--two men who attempted to commit murder! Ofcourse, it was an awful shock, and all that, but I am not going intohysterics over it. Besides, I didn't kill them."
Lawler abruptly turned away from her and walked to the fireplace. Hisface was pale and his eyes were glowing with contempt. She followed himas far as the table, her lips in a pout--and stood there watching him,her gaze mocking, defiant.
He finally turned and looked at her, his lips set in straight lines.
"Yes, I killed them, Miss Wharton," he said, evenly. "Do you know why?"
"Because they seemed determined to kill you--because they attacked you,I suppose," she returned.
"You are wrong, Miss Wharton. There was nothing personal in thatkilling. Those men were carrying out a principle of the unscrupuloussystem you defended in our talk last night. If there had been no systemthose men would not have attempted to cut my fence, I would not havecaptured them, and they would not have attempted to kill me. Do you seewhat I meant last night when I said the system was evil?"
She held his gaze unflinchingly. "Mr. Lawler," she said; "those men hadno orders to kill you--they attempted that because you captured them, Isuppose. And I did not, last night, attempt to defend Gary Warden'saction in sending them here. In fact--if you remember--I came over herepurposely to defeat them."
"But if there was no scheme to control cattle there would have been noincentive to cut my fence," he said, impatiently.
"Perhaps some other persons would have cut it," she answered; "criminalsare everywhere. Please don't preach to me, Mr. Lawler," she added,pleadingly. "I--I think you ought to be glad that I came--aren't you?"
He smiled grimly. "Well, I am not going to turn you out into the storm."
Getting out some cooking utensils he began to prepare breakfast. Shewatched him for an instant, and then went to the north window, rubbed ahole through the frost and tried to look out. She could not see morethan a few inches into the white blur that roared against the glass, andso she turned, sought a chair near the table, and resumed watchingLawler. And her eyes filled with a warm light as they followed hismovements--noting that he seemed handsomer now than he had appeared whenshe had met him that day at the foot of the stairs. And she smiled athis back, exulting in the continued fury of the storm. For it meant thatshe would be alone with him for days--many, perhaps. And she toldherself that she loved Lawler; that she had loved him since the day shehad encountered him at the foot of the stairs leading to Warden'soffice. He was wealthy, handsome; and in her code of morals it was nocrime to take advantage of every opportunity that chance presented. Andchance----
Here Gary Warden's face flashed in her mental vision. And she smiled.For Warden had never thrilled her as this man had thrilled her. Wardenwas cold, coarse, gross. This man was vibrant with life, withenergy--there was fire in him. And it had been Warden's scheming thathad sent her to Lawler. She laughed and snuggled contentedly down in thechair.