The Girl of the Golden West Part 33

"Oh, nothin', Jack, nothin'," half-cried, half-laughed the Girl. "Only it's kind o' funny how things come out, ain't it? Took in! Nina Micheltorena! Nice company he keeps--one o' them Cachuca girls with eyelashes at half-mast!"

Once more, she broke out into a fit of laughter.

"Well, well," she resumed, "an' she sold 'im out for money! Ah, Jack Rance, you're a better guesser'n I am!" And with these words she sank down at the table in an apathy of misery. Horror and hatred and hopelessness had possession of her. A fierce look was in her eyes when a moment later she raised her head and abruptly dismissed the boys, saying:

"Well, boys, it's gittin' late--good-night!"

Sonora was the first to make a movement towards the door.

"Come on, boys," he growled in his deep ba.s.s voice; "don't you intend to let a lady go to bed?"

One by one the men filed through the door which Nick held open for them; but when all but himself had left, the devoted little barkeeper turned to the Girl with a look full of meaning, and whispered:

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Me? Oh, no, Nick!" And with a "Good-night, all! Good-night, Sonora, an'

thank you! Good-night, Nick!" the Girl closed the door upon them. The last that she heard from them was the m.u.f.fled e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n:

"Oh, Lordy, we'll never git down to Cloudy to-night!"

Now the Girl slid the bolts and stood with her back against the door as if to take extra precautions to bar out any intrusion, and with eyes that blazed she yelled out:

"Come out o' that, now! Step out there, Mr. Johnson!"

Slowly the road agent parted the curtains and came forward in an att.i.tude of dejection.

"You came here to rob me," at once began the Girl, but her anger made it impossible for her to continue.

"I didn't," denied the road agent, quietly, his countenance reflecting how deeply hurt he was by her words.

"You lie!" insisted the Girl, beside herself with rage.

"I don't--"

"You do!"

"I admit that every circ.u.mstance points to--"

"Stop! Don't you give me any more o' that Webster Unabridged. You git to cases. If you didn't come here to steal you came to The Polka to rob it, didn't you?"

Johnson, his eyes lowered, was forced to admit that such were his intentions, adding swiftly:

"But when I knew about you--" He broke off and took a step towards her.

"Wait! Wait! Wait where you are! Don't you take a step further or I'll--" She made a significant gesture towards her bosom, and then, laughing harshly, went on denouncingly: "A road agent! A road agent!

Well, ain't it my luck! Wouldn't anybody know to look at me that a gentleman wouldn't fall my way! A road agent! A road agent!" And again she laughed bitterly before going on: "But now you can git--git, you thief, you imposer on a decent woman! I ought to have tol' 'em all, but I wa'n't goin' to be the joke o' the world with you behind the curtains an' me eatin' charlotte rusks an' lemming turnovers an' a-polkyin' with a road agent! But now you can git--git, do you hear me?"

Johnson heard her to the end with bowed head; and so scathing had been her denunciations of his actions that the fact that pride alone kept her from breaking down completely escaped his notice. With his eyes still downcast be said in painful fragments:

"One word only--only a word and I'm not going to say anything in defence of myself. For it's all true--everything is true except that I would have stolen from you. I _am_ called Ramerrez; I _have_ robbed; I _am_ a road agent--an outlaw by profession. Yes, I'm all that--and my father was that before me. I was brought up, educated, thrived on thieves'

money, I suppose, but until six months ago when my father died, I did not know it. I lived much in Monterey--I lived there as a gentleman.

When we met that day I wasn't the thing I am to-day. I only learned the truth when my father died and left me with a rancho and a band of thieves--nothing else--nothing for us all, and I--but what's the good of going into it--the circ.u.mstances. You wouldn't understand if I did. I was my father's son; I have no excuse; I guess, perhaps, it was in me--in the blood. Anyhow, I took to the road, and I didn't mind it much after the first time. But I drew the line at killing--I wouldn't have that. That's the man that I am, the blackguard that I am. But--" here he raised his eyes and said with a voice that was charged with feeling--"I swear to you that from the moment I kissed you to-night I meant to change, I meant to--"

"The devil you did!" broke from the Girl's lips, but with a sound that was not unlike a sob.

"I did, believe me, I did," insisted the man. "I meant to go straight and take you with me--but only honestly--when I could honestly. I meant to work for you. Why, every word you said to me to-night about being a thief cut into me like a knife. Over and over again I have said to myself, she must never know. And now--well, it's all over--I have finished."

"An' that's all?" questioned the Girl with averted face.

"No--yes--what's the use . . .?"

The Girl's anger blazed forth again.

"But there's jest one thing you've overlooked explainin', Mr. Johnson.

It shows exactly what you are. It wasn't so much your bein' a road agent I got against you. It's this:" And here she stamped her foot excitedly.

"You kissed me--you got my first kiss."

Johnson hung his head.

"You said," kept on the Girl, hotly, "you'd ben thinkin' o' me ever since you saw me at Monterey, an' all the time you walked straight off an' ben kissin' that other woman." She shrugged her shoulder and laughed grimly. "You've got a girl," she continued, growing more and more indignant. "It's that I've got against you. It's my first kiss I've got against you. It's that Nina Micheltorena that I can't forgive. So now you can git--git!" And with these words she unbolted the door and concluded tensely:

"If they kill you I don't care. Do you hear, I don't care . . ."

At those bitter words spoken by lips which failed so utterly to hide their misery, the Girl's face became colourless.

With the instinct of a brave man to sell his life as dearly as possible, Johnson took a couple of guns from his pocket; but the next moment, as if coming to the conclusion that death without the Girl would be preferable, he put them back, saying:

"You're right, Girl."

The next instant he had pa.s.sed out of the door which she held wide open for him.

"That's the end o' that--that's the end o' that," she wound up, slamming the door after him. But all the way from the threshold to the bureau she kept murmuring to herself: "I don't care, I don't care . . . I'll be like the rest o' the women I've seen. I'll give that Nina Micheltorena cards an' spades. There'll be another hussy around here. There'll be--"

The threat was never finished. Instead, with eyes that fairly started out of their sockets, she listened to the sound of a couple of shots, the last one exploding so loud and distinct that there was no mistaking its nearness to the cabin.

"They've got 'im!" she cried. "Well, I don't care--I don't--" But again she did not finish what she intended to say. For at the sound of a heavy body falling against the cabin door she flew to it, opened it and, throwing her arms about the sorely-wounded man, dragged him into the cabin and placed him in a chair. Quick as lightning she was back at the door bolting it.

With his eyes Johnson followed her action.

"Don't lock that door--I'm going out again--out there. Don't bar that door," he commanded feebly, struggling to his feet and attempting to walk towards it; but he lurched forward and would have fallen to the floor had she not caught him. Vainly he strove to break away from her, all the time crying out: "Don't you see, don't you see, Girl--open the door." And then again with almost a sob: "Do you think me a man to hide behind a woman?" He would have collapsed except for the strong arms that held him.

"I love you an' I'm goin' to save you," the Girl murmured while struggling with him. "You asked me to go away with you; I will when you git out o' this. If you can't save your own soul--" She stopped and quickly went over to the mantel where she took down a bottle of whisky and a gla.s.s; but in the act of pouring out a drink for him there came a loud rap on the window, and quickly looking round she saw Rance's piercing eyes peering into the room. For an instant she paled, but then there flashed through her mind the comforting thought that the Sheriff could not possibly see Johnson from his position. So, after giving the latter his drink, she waited quietly until a rap at the door told her that Rance had left the window when, her eye having lit on the ladder that was held in place on the ceiling, she quickly ran over to it and let it down, saying:

"Go up the ladder! Climb up there to the loft You're the man that's got my first kiss an' I'm goin' to save you . . ."

"Oh, no, not here," protested Johnson, stubbornly.

"Do you want them to see you in my cabin?" she cried reproachfully, trying to lift him to his feet.