CHAPTER XXXIV
KATE GETS A SHOCK
Late that afternoon a stable boy from Kitchen's barn appeared atBelle's, making inquiries for Doctor Carpy. Kate heard Belle at thedoor answering and asking questions, but the messenger was not able toanswer any questions; his business was to ask only. When Kitchenhimself came over a little later there was more talk at the door, thistime in low tones that left Kate in ignorance of its purport. But themoment Kitchen went away, Belle, never equal to hiding an emotion,passed with compressed lips and set face through the room in which Katesat sewing. Kate looked up as Belle walked toward the kitchen andnoticed the tense expression--fortunately she asked no questions.After some vigorous moments in the kitchen, evidenced by the sound of acreaking bread-board, sharp blows at the stove lids and an unabashedslamming of the stewpans, Belle passed again through the room carryinga plate covered with a napkin, and evidently going somewhere.
Kate felt compelled to take notice: "Where you bound for, Belle?" sheasked.
"Not far. But if I don't get back, don't wait supper," was the onlyanswer. The manner rather than the matter of it puzzled Kate as shebent over her work. But the next moment she was alone and thinkingabout her own troubles.
Half an hour passed rapidly on her sewing--for Kate's fingers werequick--and Belle returned more perturbed than when she left. She gaveKate hardly a chance to question her.
"Why didn't you eat your supper?" she demanded.
Kate answered unconcernedly: "I wasn't hungry--it isn't late, is it?"
Without answering the question Belle asked another. "Kate," she said,unpinning her hat as she spoke, "how long you going to stay here?"
A less sensitive person than Kate could hardly have mistaken the importof the question. She flushed as she looked up. "Why, surely no longerthan you want me, Belle," she answered, as evenly as she could; but hervoice showed her surprise. Belle stood before her, a statue ofimplacability and Kate, in growing astonishment, rose to her feet:"What is it? What has happened?" she asked, then as her wits workedfast: "Doesn't my father wish you to keep me?"
"I'm not thinking about what your father wants. Things are getting toothick here for me." Kate made no effort to interrupt. "I don't say Idon't like you, Kate--I've always treated you right, or tried to,"continued Belle, laboring under evident excitement. "But it's no useshutting our eyes any longer to facts. You're Barb Doubleday'sdaughter and Barb Doubleday is making war all the time on my friendsand hiring men to assassinate them, and it doesn't seem right to me andit won't to other people, me sheltering Barb Doubleday's daughter withsuch things going on----"
"But, Belle----"
Belle raised her voice one key higher: "You needn't tell me, I know.Now they're trying to murder Jim Laramie and they've close to done it,this day----"
Belle had received and accepted strict injunctions of secrecy on thenext point she disclosed, but her feelings were not to be denied. Andshe was not prepared for the question that Kate, stung by theaccusation, flung at her: "What do you mean?"
"I mean he's lying near here bleeding to death this minute and DoctorCarpy in Medicine Bend."
In tones broken with anger and excitement, Belle told the disconnectedstory as it had come to her in jerks and nods and oaths from McAlpin atthe barn, and in the little she had pulled out of Laramie himself whenshe took food to him. Then came in terribly heated words the brunt ofher anger at Kate. "You knew," she said, pointing her finger at Kate,standing stupefied. "You knew where Jim Laramie hid Hawk. Nobody elsedid know--not even Lefever or Sawdy knew--I didn't know till you toldme. Now, after they've burned his cabin, they set a death watch thereat the bridge on Laramie. How did they know there was such a place ifyou didn't tell 'em?"
Stunned by the fire of Belle's wrath, Kate, breathless, tried tocollect her senses. It was only her anger at the final implicationthat cleared them. But even as her words of indignant denial reachedher lips, her utterance was paralyzed by the recollection thatunwittingly she had told her father of the night she was thrown intoLaramie's retreat. Yet even this did not check her resentment.
"Who accuses me of telling them?" she demanded. "Who says I conspiredto murder anyone--did Mr. Laramie say so?"
She shot the question at Belle in a furious tone. Her eyes flashed ina way that confounded her accuser.
"I'm asking you how they found out," retorted Belle, but in spite ofherself on the defensive.
Kate's face was set and her eyes were on fire. All the anger that awoman could feel centered in her words and manner. "Answer my questionbefore you say another word." She confronted Belle without yielding."Did Jim Laramie accuse me in any way of anything?"
"Oh, you needn't be so high and mighty," flustered Belle. "I'll answeryour question; no. Now you answer mine, will you?"
"How can _I_ answer how they found out? I will not say another worduntil I see Mr. Laramie--where is he?"
"You can't see him--nobody knows he is here--he won't talk to you."
Kate paid no attention to her words: "He'll have to tell me thathimself," she returned. "If he is near here--he must be at Kitchen's."
Belle could say nothing to check or swerve her. Taking up her hat andignoring all warnings, Kate walked straight over to the barn. Shefound McAlpin at the stable door: "I want you to take a message for meto Mr. Laramie," she said, speaking low and collectedly. "Ask him ifhe will see Kate Doubleday for just two minutes."
McAlpin, in all his devious career, had never passed through more orquicker stages of astonishment, confusion, poise and evasion than hedid in listening to those words. But at pulling his wits together,McAlpin was a wonder. By the time Kate had finished, his innocentquestion was ready: "Where is he?"
"He is here. I must see him at once."
"But I ain't seen him myself for a week. He's not here. Who told youhe's here?"
"Belle," persisted Kate calmly, "told me he _is_ here. I must see him.Don't deceive me, McAlpin--do just as I ask you, no more, no less."
"No more, no less, sure," grumbled the Scotchman. "You gives me onekind of orders--the boss gives me another kind. I can't do no more, Ican't do no less. I can't do nothin'--I've got a family to support andall this damned rowing going on, a man's job is no safer nowadays inthis country than his head!"
But words were not to save him. Kate persisted. She would not be putoff. McAlpin, swearing and protesting, could in the end only offer togo see whether he could by any chance find Laramie. After a long tripthrough the winding alleys of the big barn--for Kate watched thebaseball cap and crazy vizor as long as she could follow it--thencomplete disappearance for a time, McAlpin came back to Kate, immovableat the office door, his face wreathed with a surprised smile.
He spoke, but his eyes were opened wide and his words were delivered ina whisper; mystery hung upon his manner: "Come along," he nodded,indicating the interior. "Only say nothing to nobody. He'shit--there's all there is to it. Here's all I know, but I don't knowall: About three hours ago Ben Simeral was riding up the Crazy Womanwhen he seen a man half dropping off his horse, hat gone, riding headdown, slow, with his rifle slung on his arm. Simmie seen who itwas--Jim Laramie. He looked at horse 'n' man 'n' says: 'Where the hellyou bin?' 'Where the hell 'a' you been,' Laramie says, pretty short.'Ridin' all over this'--excuse my rough language, Kate--'blamedcountry, lookin' f'r to tell you Van Horn and Stone's out o' jail!'
"Laramie seen then from the ol' man's horse how he'd been ridin' 'n'softened down a bit. 'So I heard, Simmie,' he says. 'Who'd you hearit from?' says Simmie. 'Direct, Simmie,' he says. 'Did they pot y',Jim?' 'Nicked my shoulder, I guess.' 'Where you goin'?' 'To town.''Man,' says Simmie, 'you've lost a lot o' blood.' 'Got a little left,Simmie.'
"Then John Fryin' Pan c'm along. Simmie tried to ride to town withLaramie--f'r fear he'd fall off his horse. Laramie wouldn't letneither of 'em do a thing. 'This is my fight,' he says. But Simmieand John Fryin' Pan scouted along behind and Simmie rode in ahead neartown
to tell me Laramie was comin'. God! He was a sight when he rodeinto this barn. He tumbled off his horse right there"--McAlpin pointedto a spot where fresh straw had been sprinkled--"just like a dead man.I helped carry him upstairs," he whispered. "I'll take y' to him. Buty' bet your life"--the grizzled old man stopped and turned sharply onhis companion--"y' bet your life some o' them niggers bit the dustsome'eres this morning. This way."
Kate, pacing McAlpin's rapid step breathlessly, hung on hishalf-muttered words: "He's bleedin' to death," continued McAlpin;"that's the short of it, and that blamed doctor down at Medicine Bend.I don't think much o' that man. Can't none of us stop it. Where'sthis goin' to end?"
He led her by roundabout passages, up one alley and down another, andat last opened the door of an old harness room, waited for Kate tofollow him inside and, closing the door behind her, spoke: "I didn'twant you to have to climb a barn ladder," he said, explaining."There's the stairs." He pointed in the semi-darkness and led hertoward the flight along the opposite wall. At the top of this flightlight fell from a square opening in the hay-mow.
"Walk up them stairs--I lifted the trap-door f'r ye. He's right upthere at the head of the steps. When y' come down, open _this_ door atthe foot, here. It's a blind door; don't show on the other side. See,it's bolted. It takes you right into the office. We keep it boltedfrom the inside, so no trouble can't come, see?" He unbolted andopened the door a crack to show her, closed and rebolted it. Thenstarting her up the stairs, McAlpin jerked the crazy vizor on hisforehead into a fashion once more simulating child-like frankness anddisappeared by the way he had come.