Nan of Music Mountain

  CHAPTER VIII

  THE GAMBLING-ROOM

  They confronted each other blankly. To Nan's confusion was added herembarrassment at her personal appearance. Her hat was wet, and thelimp shoulders of her khaki jacket and the front of her silk blouseshowed the wilting effect of the rain. In one hand she clutched wetriding-gloves. Her cheeks, either from the cold rain or mental stress,fairly burned, and her eyes, which had seemed when he encountered her,fired with some resolve, changed to an expression almost of dismay.

  This was hardly for more than an instant. Then her lips tightened, hereyes dropped, and she took a step to one side to avoid de Spain andenter the gambling-room. He stepped in front of her. She looked up,furious. "What do you mean?" she exclaimed with indignation. "Let mepass."

  The sound of her voice restored his self-possession. He made no moveto get out of her way, indeed he rather pointedly continued toobstruct her. "You've made a mistake, I think," he said evenly.

  "I have not," she replied with resentment. "Let me pass."

  "I think you have. You don't know where you are going," he persisted,his eyes bent uncompromisingly on hers.

  She showed increasing irritation at his attempt to exculpate her. "Iknow perfectly well where I am going," she retorted with heat.

  "Then you know," he returned steadily, "that you've no business toenter such a place."

  His opposition seemed only to anger her. "I know where I havebusiness. I need no admonitions from you as to what places I enter.You are impertinent, insulting. Let me pass!"

  His stubborn opposition showed no signs of weakening before herresolve. "One question," he said, ignoring her angry words. "Have youever been in these rooms before?"

  He thought she quailed the least bit before his searching look. Sheeven hesitated as to what to say. But if her eyes fell momentarily itwas only to collect herself. "Yes," she answered, looking upunflinchingly.

  Her resolute eyes supported her defiant word and openly challenged hisinterference, but he met her once more quietly. "I am sorry to hearit," he rejoined. "But that won't make any difference. You can't go into-night."

  "I will go in," she cried.

  "No," he returned slowly, "you are not going in--not, at least, whileI am here."

  They stood immovable. He tried to reason her out of her determination.She resented every word he offered. "You are most insolent," sheexclaimed. "You are interfering in something that is no concern ofyours. You have no right to act in this outrageous way. If you don'tstand aside I'll call for help."

  "Nan!" De Spain spoke her name suddenly and threateningly. His wordsfell fast, and he checked her for an instant with his vehemence. "Wemet in the Gap a week ago. I said I was telling you the exact truth.Did I do it?"

  "I don't care what you said or what you did----"

  "Answer me," he said sharply, "did I tell you the truth?"

  "I don't know or care----"

  "Yes, you do know----"

  "What you say or do----"

  "I told you the truth then, I am telling it now. I will never see youenter a gambling-room as long as I can prevent it. Call for help ifyou like."

  She looked at him with amazement. She seemed about to speak--to makeanother protest. Instead, she turned suddenly away, hesitated again,put both her hands to her face, burst into tears, and hurried towardthe stairs. De Spain followed her. "Let me take you to where you aregoing?"

  Nan turned on him, her eyes blazing through her tears, with a single,scornful, furious word: "No!" She quickened her step from him in suchconfusion that she ran into two men just reaching the top of thestairs. They separated with alacrity, and gave her passage. One of themen was Lefever, who, despite his size, was extremely nimble ingetting out of her urgent way, and quick in lifting his hat. Shefairly raced down the flight of steps, leaving Lefever looking afterher in astonishment. He turned to de Spain: "Now, who the deuce wasthat?"

  De Spain ignored his question by asking another: "Did you find him?"Lefever shook his head. "Not a trace; I covered Main Street. I guessBob was right. Nobody home here, Henry?"

  "Nobody we want."

  "Nothing going on?"

  "Not a thing. If you will wait here for Bob, I'll run over to theoffice and answer those telegrams."

  De Spain started for the stairs. "Henry," called Lefever, as hiscompanion trotted hastily down, "if you catch up to her, kindlyapologize for a fat man."

  But de Spain was balked of an opportunity to follow Nan. In the streethe ran into Scott. "Did you get the story?" demanded de Spain.

  "Part of it."

  "Was it Sassoon?"

  Scott shook his head. "I wish it was."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Deaf Sandusky."

  "Calabasas?"

  Scott nodded. "You must have moved a couple of inches at the rightnick, Henry. That man Sandusky," Bob smiled a sickly smile, "doesn'tmiss very often. He was bothered a little by his friends being allaround you."

  The two regarded each other for a moment in silence. "Why," asked deSpain, boiling a little, "should that damned, hulking brute try toblow _my_ head off just now?"

  "Only for the good of the order, Henry," grinned the scout.

  "Nice job Jeff has picked out for me," muttered de Spain grimly,"standing up in these Sleepy Cat barrooms to be shot at." He drew in agood breath and threw up the wet brim of his hat. "Well, such is lifein the high country, I suppose. Some fine day Mr. Sandusky will manageto get me--or I'll manage to get him--that all depends on how thehappening happens. Anyway, Bob, it's bad luck to miss a man. We'llhang that much of a handicap on his beef-eating crop. Is he the fellowJohn calls the butcher?" demanded de Spain.

  "That's what everybody calls him, I guess."

  The two rejoined Lefever at the head of the stairs and the threediscussed the news. Even Lefever seemed more serious when he heard thereport. Scott, when asked where Sandusky now was, nodded toward thebig room in front of them.

  Lefever looked toward the gambling-tables. "We'll go in and look athim." He turned to Scott to invite his comment on the proposal. "Thinktwice, John," suggested the Indian. "If there's any trouble in a crowdlike that, somebody that has no interest in de Spain or Sandusky ispretty sure to get hurt."

  "I don't mean to start anything," explained Lefever. "I only want deSpain to look at him."

  But sometimes things start themselves. Lefever found Sandusky at afaro-table. At his side sat his partner, Logan. Three other players,together with the onlookers, and the dealer--whose tumbled hair fellpartly over the visor that protected his eyes from the glare of theoverhead light--made up the group. The table stood next to that ofTenison, who, white-faced and impassive under the heat and light,still held to his chair.

  Lefever took a position at one end of the table, where he facedSandusky, and de Spain, just behind his shoulder, had a chance to lookthe two Calabasas men closely over. Sandusky again impressed him as apowerful man, who, beyond an ample stomach, carried his weight withoutshowing it. What de Spain most noted, as it lay on the table, was thesize and extreme length of the outlaw's hand. He had heard ofSandusky's hand. From the tips of the big fingers to the base of thepalm, this right hand, spread over his chips, would cover half againthe length of the hand of the average man.

  De Spain credited readily the extraordinary stories he had heard ofSandusky's dexterity with a revolver or a rifle. That he should solately have missed a shot at so close range was partly explainednow that de Spain perceived Sandusky's small, hard, brown eyeswere somewhat unnaturally bright, and that his brows knit everylittle while in his effort to collect himself. But his stimulationonly partly explained the failure; it was notoriously hard to upsetthe powerful outlaw with alcohol. De Spain noted the coarse,straw-colored hair--plastered recently over the forehead by abarber--the heavy, sandy mustache, freshly waxed by the same hand,the bellicose nostrils of the Roman nose, the broad, split chin,and mean, deep lines of a most unpromising face. Sandusky's brownshirt sprawled open at the collar, and de Spain remembered
againthe flashy waistcoat, fastened at the last buttonhole by a cut-glassbutton.

  At Sandusky's side sat his crony in all important undertakings--a muchsmaller, sparer man, with aggressive shoulders and restless eyes.Logan was the lookout of the pair, and his roving glance lighted on deSpain before the latter had inspected him more than a moment. He lostno time in beginning on de Spain with an insolent question as to whathe was looking at. De Spain, his eye bent steadily on him, answeredwith a tone neither of apology nor pronounced offense: "I am lookingat you."

  Lefever hitched at his trousers cheerily and, stepping away from deSpain, took a position just behind the dealer. "What are you lookingat me for?" demanded Logan insolently.

  De Spain raised his voice to match exactly the tone of the inquiry."So I'll know you next time."

  Logan pushed back his chair. As he turned his legs from under thetable to rise, a hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up and saw thebrown face and feeble smile of Scott. Logan with his nearest footkicked Sandusky. The big fellow looked up and around. Either by chanceor in following the sound of the last voice, his glance fell on deSpain. He scrutinized for a suspicious instant the burning eyes andthe red mark low on the cheek. While he did so--comprehension dawningon him--his enormous hands, forsaking the pile of chips with whichboth had been for a moment busy, flattened out, palms down, on thefaro-table. Logan tried to rise. Scott's hand rested heavily on him."What's the row?" demanded Sandusky in the queer tone of a deaf man.Logan pointed at de Spain. "That Medicine Bend duck wants a fight."

  "With a man, Logan; not with a cub," retorted de Spain, matchinginsult with insult.

  "Maybe I can do something for you," interposed Sandusky. His eyes ranlike a flash around the table. He saw how Lefever had pre-empted thebest place in the room. He looked up and back at the man standing nowat his shoulder, and almost between Logan and himself. It was theIndian, Scott. Sandusky felt, as his faculties cleared and arrangedthemselves every instant, that there was no hurry whatever aboutlifting his hand; but he could not be faced down without a show ofresistance, and he concluded that for this occasion his tongue was thebest weapon. "If I can," he added stiffly, "I'm at your service."

  De Spain made no answer beyond keeping his eyes well on Sandusky'seyes. Tenison, overhearing the last words, awoke to the situation androse from his case. He made his way through the crowd around thedisputants and brusquely directed the dealer to close the game. WhileSandusky was cashing in, Tenison took Logan aside. What Tenison saidwas not audible, but it sufficed to quiet the little fellow. The onlything further to be settled was as to who should leave the room last,since neither party was willing to go first. Tenison, after a formalconference with Lefever and Logan, offered to take Sandusky and Loganby a private stairway to the billiard-room, while Lefever took deSpain and Scott out by way of the main entrance. This was arranged,and when the railroad men reached the street rain had ceased falling.

  Scott warned de Spain to keep within doors, and de Spain promised todo so. But when they left him he started out at once to see whether hecould not, by some happy chance, encounter Nan.