Port O' Gold Part 17

Adrian was conscious, suddenly, that his hand still held the pistol. He flung it from him with a gesture of repulsion.

"My wife!" he said faintly, "Inez!"

"What d'ye mean?" asked Spear.

"Talk up, man. What's wrong?"

"She's gone--abducted," Stanley answered. "Who'll lend me a horse. I must find McTurpin. He knows--"

Unexpectedly Spear complicated matters. "You're mistaken, Stanley. I followed when you and he took your walk together. I suspected treachery--when Gasket sneaked along behind. I had McTurpin covered when you turned your back on him. He came here after that. Both of them have been here all the evening."

Stanley put his hand to his head with a bewildered gesture.

"Good G.o.d! Then where--? What has become of them?"

"Maybe they got wind of Benito's presence. Maybe they're with him. Let's see."

They hurried back to the City Hotel.

"The room's dark," Spear lighted a taper and they softly opened the door. Benito slept; beside him drowsed a red-s.h.i.+rted miner slumped upon a chair. Adrian shook him, whispering, "Where's Doctor Jones?"

"Don't know," muttered the watcher, sleepily. "This yere is his busy night I reckon. Asked me to look after this galoot. Feed him four fingers of that pizen if he woke."

His head drooped forward and a buzzing sound came from his open mouth.

Once more Adrian shook him.

"Didn't he say anything about his destination?"

"His which, pard?"

"Where he was bound," the young man said half angrily.

This time the other sat up straighter. For the first time he really awoke and took intelligent cognizance of the situation.

"Now I come to think on it, he's bound for the hill over yonder. Woman named Briones come for him at a double quick. Good lookin' Spanish wench. She took him by the arm commandin' like. 'You come along,' she says and picks up his medicine chest. 'Don't stop for yer hat.' And he didn't." He winked heavily, chuckling at the reminiscence.

"Then it isn't Juana Briones that's ill. Perhaps it's her husband."

"Has she got a husband?" asked the miner, disappointedly. "No, I reckon 'twant him. 'Twas a woman name o' Stanley. I remember now--Goin' to have a bebby."

CHAPTER XXIII

THE NEW ARRIVAL

"Take my horse," said Brannan, hurriedly. "I'll stay here with Benito."

He bundled the excited Stanley and Nathan Spear out of the room, where Benito still slept under the spell of the doctor's opiate. "You, too,"

he told the miner, "you've had too much red liquor to play the nurse."

He closed the door after them.

The young contractor spoke first. "By the eternal, I never thought of that! I'm glad she had a woman with her."

He spurred his horse toward Telegraph, Hill, as it had begun to be known, since signals were flashed from its crest, announcing the arrival of vessels. Down its farther slope was the little rancho of Dona Briones, where Inez in her extremity had sought the good friend of her childhood.

Adrian's thought leaped forward into coming years. Inez and he together, always together as the years pa.s.sed. And between them a son--intuitively he felt that it would be a son--a successor, taking up their burdens as they laid them down; bearing their name, their ideals, purposes along, down the pageant of time.

He paid little heed as they pa.s.sed through a huddle of huts, tents and lean-tos on the southern ascent. Though the hour was late, many windows were light and sounds of revelry came dimly, as though m.u.f.fled, from curtain-hid interiors. There was something furtive and ill-omened about this neighborhood which one sensed rather than perceived. Spear rode close and touched Adrian's arm.

"Sydney town," he whispered, meaningly. "The hang-out of our convict citizens from Australia, those eastern toughs and plug-uglies of the Seventh regiment who came here to feather their nests. Do you know what they've done? Formed a society called The Hounds. Appropriate, isn't it?

Your friend McTurpin's one of them. Thanks to you, they've lost a valued member."

"Hounds?" said Adrian. His thought still forged ahead. "Oh, yes, I've heard about them. They are going to drive out the foreigners."

"Loot them, more likely," Spear returned, disgustedly; "then us, if we don't look out. Mark my word, they'll give us trouble. Alcalde Leavenworth's too careless by half."

Stanley, paying scant attention, suddenly leaned forward in his saddle.

At one of the windows a curtain was drawn back; a woman's face appeared for a moment silhouetted against inner light; then as swiftly withdrew.

"Who was that?" asked Adrian, involuntarily reining in his mount.

"Not--"

"Rosa Terranza," said Spear excitedly.

They listened. From within the tent-house came a sound of hasty movements, whispering. The light winked out. A bolt was shot; then silence.

"I'll bet, by Jupiter, McTurpin's there," cried Adrian.

"And that he's hurt," Spear added. "What shall we do?"

"Let them be," decided Stanley, clucking to his horse. "My duty's ahead." He took the steep pitch of the hillside almost at a gallop and soon they were descending again into that little settlement of waterside and slope called North Beach. Juana Briones' place had been its pioneer habitation. Her hospitable gate stood always invitingly open. Through the branches of a cypress lights could be seen. The front door stood ajar and about it were whispering women. Adrian's heart leaped. Was something amiss? He dismounted impetuously, throwing the reins to an Indian who had come out evidently to do them service. Spear followed as he rushed through the door. There stood Dona Briones, finger on lip, demanding silence. Her face was grave.

"How--how is she? How is Inez?" Adrian stammered.

"The doctor's with her. Everything will be all right, I think. But make no noise. Go in that room and sit down."

Adrian threw up his hands. "My G.o.d, woman! How can I sit still when--when--?"

"Walk up and down, then," said Juana, "but take off your shoes."

Which Adrian finally did. It seemed to him that he had paced the tiny chamber a thousand times. He heard movements, voices in the next room; now and then his wife's moan and the elder woman's soothing accents.

Then a silence which seemed century long, a silence fraught with unimaginable terror. It was broken by a new sound, high pitched, feeble, but distinct; the cry of a child. Helplessly Adrian subsided into a chair beside Nathan Spear. "Do you hear that?" he asked, mopping his forehead.

"Yes, I heard it," said the other non-committally.

"I can't stand this any longer," Adrian exclaimed. "I'm going in there.

I--I've got to know--"