The Twins of Suffering Creek Part 48

"Gold? Pea-shucks!" he roared, with a furious oath. "An' I tell you right here I ain't to be made no fool of. You ken take this mule-headed job an'--an'--well, you ken take it. I quit right here."

But again Bill ignored his outburst. There was not a vestige of expression in his face as he moved across to the mouth of a shaft Scipio had been sinking before his work had been interrupted by the going of his wife. He looked into it and pointed.

"Guess you best get right on makin' this hole deeper. Ther' ain't nuthin' like diggin' to find out. Zip's sure a wise guy. I don't guess I know what you'll likely find--but--you best kep diggin'. That's sure his notion."

Sandy went purple in the face, and spluttered violently in his attempt to speak. Finally, when he did get his words out, it was only to repeat his decision.

"It's jest a mud swamp," he cried, "an' I quit."

Bill turned swiftly. His movements were almost cat-like as he came up and peered into Sandy's face.

"You'll kep right on diggin' that hole," he said, with an icy threat.

"An' come Wednesday you'll quit diggin' an' hit the trail on Zip's track--you an' Sunny an' Toby--an' you'll sure see no harm comes to him. But he ain't to see you, nor to know you're chasin' him. An' you ain't to stop him, no matter what fool trick he gets playin'. Get me?"

Sandy's choler died out before the other's purpose. He suddenly realized that his work on the claim was not of any great consequence to his employer, that Bill had other thoughts, other schemes in his head, and that he, Sandy, was to have his place in them. He nodded.

"I get you," he said. "But--"

"Ther' ain't no 'buts,'" interrupted Bill. "You're goin' to do as I sez. Meanwhiles you're goin' right on diggin' that hole, to earn your dollars."

And without another word he turned and hurried away towards the mouth of the trail whence he had appeared.

CHAPTER XXVII

SUSPENSE

It was nearly sundown. A chilly mist was stealing down the slopes of the surrounding hills. It densified to a ruddy fog as it caught the glow of the evening sun, and finally settled upon the valley. And with each pa.s.sing moment the hills seemed to recede, their outlines to grow more indistinct and ghostly. And gradually the whole prospect took on the depressing aspect of a day dying wearily.

Had Jessie been less preoccupied as she stood at the door of the ranch-house she might have felt something of all this. But she heeded nothing of the hour, and saw nothing of the picture before her. Her eyes only visualized the scenes that a world of troubled and apprehensive thought yielded her. Her mind and heart were full of a great terror, a terror which left her helpless and dazed.

She stirred restlessly. Time and again she changed her position. Now she was leaning against one casing of the doorway, now against the other. A nervous glance over her shoulder, as some sound in the darkness of the room behind her set her s.h.i.+vering, told of the state of her nerves, as also, with ears ever on the alert, her fearful glances at a definite spot in the rapidly dimming hills told of a straining, hara.s.sed expectancy. Her nerves were almost at breaking-point. Her handsome face was drawn and haggard. All the youthful freshness seemed to have vanished from it forever, leaving her radiant eyes shadowed and hopeless. It was a painful change. But the outward and visible signs were nothing to the changes that had taken place within her.

Thirty yards away a decrepit ch.o.r.eman was making pretense of some work upon a corral fence. But it was only pretense. His real occupation was espionage. His red-rimmed eyes never for a moment lost sight of his master's woman when she showed herself in the open. A curious-looking dog of immense proportions, half mastiff, half Newfoundland, squatted on its haunches at his side, alternating his green-eyed attention between a watchful regard for the hand that fed and thrashed it and the woman at the doorway. There was not much to choose between the faces of these wardens of the ranch. Both were cruel, both were intensely vicious. In neither pair of eyes was there any friendliness for the woman. And it needed little imagination to understand that both possessed to the full all the instincts of the savage watch-dog.

But Jessie had no thought for either. Her own terrible thoughts and feelings held her. It is doubtful if she was even aware of their presence at all. Just now one thought stood out dominant in her mind.

She was expecting the return of--James. And the return of James meant--She shuddered.

He was returning from his expedition in the neighborhood of Suffering Creek, and this knowledge brought with it the remembrance that his object was to give her possession of at least one of her children.

Distracted as she was with her mother's desire for possession of her offspring, although the man was now only obeying her expressed wishes, she dreaded the child's coming almost as much as she dreaded her lover's return. The thought of seeing Vada in this man's arms maddened her to such a degree that she was well-nigh beside herself.

For two whole days now had she brooded under a cloud of despair. She had scarcely stirred out of her room; she had eaten scarcely enough to sustain life. She had shut herself up, a prey to harrowing remorse and terror--a remorse which she knew to be as useless as her terror was nerve-racking. Her awakening had come, sudden, awful. And, like all such awakenings, it had come too late, so that the horror of her future was written in letters of fire before her mental eyes, a fire which burnt into her broken heart and left her in the depths of an unutterable despair.

It was on the morning of her lover's departure for the region of Suffering Creek that the awakening had come. It had come with an overwhelming rush of horror which, in the midst of her dressing, had sent her reeling and fainting upon the bed from which she had only just risen, and where for two hours she had subsequently lain in a state of collapse.

She was brus.h.i.+ng her hair, her mind busy with the pleasant thought that shortly she was to have one of her children with her again. She knew that her appeal to her husband had failed, but James had sworn to keep his promise, and now he was setting out for that expressed purpose. And such was her foolish woman's blind faith that she had no doubts. When he returned he was to bring, at least, little Vada with him. The fresh mountain air was doubly pleasant to her that morning.

The brilliant sunlight raised her spirits. All qualms of conscience were thrust into the background, and she was as nearly happy as earthly interest could make her.

She could see the crowded corrals from where she stood. She could hear the bellowing of the restless cattle as they pushed and horned each other in their forceful, bovine desire to get out to the succulent gra.s.s of their beloved pastures. All the men were astir, preparing for their lawless expedition. The saddle-horses, ready for the trail, were hitched to the corral fences. Through the open window she could hear her lover ordering and hectoring, as was his way of dealing with the ruffians who served under his leaders.h.i.+p; and a thrill of excitement, a subtle sympathy, stirred her. She moved to the window, leaving her beautiful hair flowing in the bright air, and stood watching for the departure.

Then came that hideous thing which was to shadow all her future life.

It came almost without warning. In a flash, it seemed, the last tinge of romance was swept from her thoughts, and the hideous skeleton of reality was laid bare.

The men had tightened up the cinchas of their saddles, and pa.s.sed the reins over their horses' heads, ready to mount. She watched them all with something very like admiration in her blinded eyes. Their hard, desperate faces did not appear so to her. These things, in her foolish mind, were the hall-mark of reckless courage, of strong, virile manhood. They were men who feared nothing, who cared no more for their own lives than they would care for the life of an enemy. And somehow this seemed to her just as it should be.

She waited to see them mount their raw-boned bronchos. But somehow there was a delay; and in this delay a change came over the scene. The men drifted away from their horses and gathered into groups. They stood whispering together with faces averted from their leader. A feeling of apprehension somehow caught hold of her. She did not understand why, but she felt that all was not right. She turned to James, and saw that he was moving round his horse all unconcernedly, and she wondered if he were aware of the change in his men.

But all further speculation was abruptly checked, for at that moment she heard the leader issue one of his sharp orders. She did not quite catch his words, but she noticed that no one moved or attempted to comply. Only talk ceased instantly. Then she saw the handsome face of her lover flush, as he glanced about him at this unusual phenomenon, and in a moment she recognized the sudden savage anger that flashed into his eyes. Simultaneously his hand dropped to the b.u.t.t of one of his guns.

Then she heard his words, as they were shouted to the accompaniment of a string of vicious oaths.

"Ho, you, Ned, an' you, too, Sully!" he cried fiercely, "get your ears flappin'. Huyk that rotten skunk Conroy out. I ain't tellin' you again."

The woman had thrilled at his words. There was such command, such fearlessness in them, in his whole poise. She felt, too, that there was trouble looming. There was rebellion in the air. Her excitement rose, and her sympathies were all for this one man.

The two men indicated suddenly bestirred themselves, and moved off under their leader's eye. The rest drifted together--eight of them, she found herself counting. And as they drew together a murmur arose.

Instantly James' gun flew from its holster; and he stood, the personification of cold authority.

"Another word an' I empty this into your lousy hides!" she heard him cry. And instantly the murmur died out.

But the threatening weapon did not return to its holster. James stood there waiting. And presently she beheld the two men he had despatched returning, bringing in their custody, tottering awkwardly between them, the man Abe Conroy, with his arms tightly fastened behind his back, and a pair of horse-hobbles securing his ankles. They came slowly, for the hobbles allowed but little play, and halted less than five yards away from their leader.

As they paused the woman s.h.i.+vered. Some premonition of what was about to happen got hold of her, and struck terror to her heart. She stood staring now, unable to move. A hideous fascination seemed to paralyze her.

The next thing that reached her comprehension was that James was speaking in a harsh metallic voice. She had never heard him speak like that before, and her fears swiftly increased as his words floated in through the open window.

"Now, you skunk," he was saying, "you guess you're man enough to run this lay-out. You guess you're a bigger man than me. You guess you got me squealin' around like a suckin' kid. You! An' I took you out o'

jail, wher' they was goin' to set you swingin'. Gee! I could tell you a heap, but I ain't no time talkin' to b.a.s.t.a.r.ds of your kidney.

Swingin's too good fer sech as you. Anyway, when I got work to do I do it myself. Here, you, Ned, an' you, Sully, stand aside!"

She saw the two men withdraw. She wanted to scream, without quite knowing why. But no sound came. Her eyes were starting out of her head with the horror of what she knew to be about to happen. But she had no power to stir hand or foot.

She saw James move forward. She saw the bloodless, horror-stricken face of the prisoner. She saw him stumble as he attempted to move away. There was no escape.

James moved forward with body crouching, and strides that covered the intervening s.p.a.ce with almost feline stealth.

He came right up to the man, his gun leading. She heard a report and one dreadful cry of terror and pain. She saw Conroy crumple and fall writhing upon the ground. She saw the blood streaming from his stomach. Then the further horror came to her staring eyes as she saw James stand over his victim and fire shot after shot into the hideous, writhing heap.

But the limit was reached. With one wild scream she turned away and flung herself upon her bed; and the next moment everything mercifully became a blank to her.

That was on the Sunday morning. She saw nothing of what followed. She knew nothing until she awoke some two hours later to the haunting vision of the scene she had witnessed. And ever since it had clung to her--clung like an obsession, a mental parasite sapping her nerve, her very reason. Nor had she power to disa.s.sociate herself from it.

And now she was waiting in an agony of mind for the murderer's return. Not only was she waiting for his return, but she expected to see him bearing in his arms one of her own innocent children. The thought of little Vada in his arms drove her frantic. Her innocent little Vada in the arms of this cold-blooded a.s.sa.s.sin!