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Of course she had recovered, he told himself. He had watched her breathing before he left her. Yes, he had ascertained that. She had been merely stunned. Ah, a sudden thought! Perhaps she had told them what had happened. A black rage against her suddenly took hold of him.
If she had--but no. Even though he was--as he was, he realized, as bad natures often will realize in others better than themselves, Eve's loyalty and high-mindedness. It could not be that. He wondered. And wondering they reached their destination.
Peter let him pa.s.s into the hut, and, following quickly, lit the lamp.
Then he pointed at the only comfortable seat, and propped himself against the table, with the light s.h.i.+ning full on Will's face.
"Will," he began, without any preamble, "you've got to take a fall--quick. You've got to get such a big fall that maybe it'll hurt some--at first. But you'll get better--later."
"I don't get you."
The man a.s.sumed indifference. He felt that he must steady himself. He wanted to get the measure of the other before giving vent to those feelings which were natural to him since drink had undermined all that was best in him.
"You've nearly killed your wife to-night," Peter went on, with a new note of harshness in his voice. "Look you, I'm not going to preach.
It's not our way here, and none of us are such a heap good that preaching comes right from us. I'm warning you, and it's a warning you'll take right here, or worse'll come. Now I don't know the rights of what has happened between you and Eve, but I'll sort of reconstruct it to you in my own way, and it matters nothing if I am right or wrong. Eve and you had words. What about I can only guess at. Maybe it was money, maybe the saloon, maybe poker. You two must have got to words, which ended by you brutally pitching her on to the edge of the coal box, and nearly killing her. After that you went out, leaving her to die--by your act--if it took her that way. Mark you, she didn't fall. She couldn't have--and smashed her forehead as she did. She told us she did, but that, I guess, was to s.h.i.+eld you."
"Then she didn't give you this pretty yarn?" inquired Will, sarcastically. He was feeling better. He gathered that Eve was not going to die. "You kind of made it up on your own?"
"Just so," replied Peter, quite unmoved. "I--we--Doc Crombie, Jim Thorpe, and I. We made it up, as you choose to call it, because we've eyes and ears and common sense. And Doc Crombie knows just about how much force it would take to smash her head as it was smashed."
"And what were you fellows doing in my house?" Will demanded, his anger gaining ground in proportion to the abatement of his fears.
"We were in _Eve's_ house," answered Peter, drily, "for the reason that we wished to have a chat with her. That is, Jim and I. Doc Crombie came because we'd a notion we were sorry for Eve, and didn't want her to die on our hands. That's why we were there."
Will laughed.
"Jim Thorpe was there, eh? And who's to say that you and he didn't do the mischief? Guess Jim hates things enough, seeing I married Eve.
She'd got no broken head when I left her."
"You needn't to lie about it, Will," Peter said calmly. "Least of all to me. But that makes no odds. As I said, you've got to take a fall.
Barnriff's got ears and eyes that puts it wise to a lot. It's wise to how things have been going with you and Eve. It's wise to the fact you're b.u.mming your living out of her, that you're a drunken, poker-playing loafer, and that you're doing it on her earnings. And Barnriff, headed by a few of us, and Doc Crombie, aren't going to stand for it. If you don't get busy you'll find there's trouble for you, and if, from this out, Barnriff gets wise to your ill-treatment of Eve, in any way--G.o.d help you. You'll get less mercy shown you than you showed that poor girl to-night. That's what I brought you here to say. And I'd like to add a piece of friendly advice. Don't you show your face in Rocket's saloon to get a drink or deal a hand at poker for a month or--well, I needn't warn you further of what's going to happen. If you've got savvee you'll read through the lines. Maybe you'll take this hard--I can see it in your face. But you're a man, and you've got some grit--well, get right out and do things. That's your chance here in Barnriff."
Will Henderson's face was a study while he listened to his arraignment and final sentence by the mild Peter Blunt. At first rage was his dominant emotion, but it gave way before the mild but resolute fas.h.i.+on in which the large man poured out the inexorable flow of the sentence.
And somehow for a moment those calm words got hold of all that was vital in him, and he shrank before them. But neither did this feeling last. A bitter hatred rose up in his heart, a black, overmastering, pa.s.sionate desire for vengeance fired him, and proportionate with its strength a cunning stirred which held it in check. He put an abrupt question, nor could he keep his angry feelings out of his voice.
"So Jim Thorpe's helped in this?" he said savagely. "No need to ask his reason. Gee, it's a mean man that can't take his med'cine."
"You needn't bark up that tree, Will," said Peter, patiently. "We're all responsible for this--the whole of Barnriff." Then he smiled. "You see, Doc Crombie has approved."
Then it was that Henderson saw fit to change his manner. It seemed almost as if the enormity of his offense had been suddenly brought home to him, and contrition had begun to stir.
"Seems to me, Peter, as if the ways of things were queer," he said, after a long pause. "I've got something that'll keep me out of Barnriff a good deal in future. I've had it a week an' more back. I've struck a good thing up in the hills." He laughed. "A real good thing--and it's easy, too."
"I'm glad," the other said genuinely.
"It's gold. Something in your line, eh? Placer. Gee, I'll make things hum when I've taken the stuff out of it. S'truth, I'll buy some of 'em! And sell 'em, too, for that matter."
Peter was interested.
"Gold, eh? Well, good luck to you. I'm glad--if it's to make a man of you."
For a second Will's eyes flashed.
"Yes, you're right; it'll make a man of me. And, being a man, there are some things I'm not likely to forget. Say, you've pa.s.sed sentence--you and your friends, which include Jim Thorpe. You won't have to carry it out. I'll knuckle down, because I know you all. But, by gee! I've struck what you're looking for, and when I've gathered the dust I'll make some folks jump to my own tune! Get that, Peter Blunt."
Peter smiled at the sudden outburst of malicious rage. Then his face grew cold, and his even tone checked the tide of the other's impotent rage.
"I get it," he said. "But meanwhile Barnriff is top dog, an' you best write that down in big letters, and set it where you can read it easily. Now you can go home and look after your poor wife. And remember, as sure as there's a G.o.d in heaven, if you make that girl's life a misery, or in any way hurt her, you'll sicken at the thought of Barnriff. Now you can go."
Peter's quiet manner carried unpleasant conviction to the departing man. The conviction was so strong that he obeyed him to the letter. He walked without hesitation, without any desire to do otherwise, in the direction of his home. But this was an almost mechanical result. His mind was occupied in a way that would have astonished the men of Barnriff.
His fury had gone. His brain was filled with cold, hard thoughts, the more cruel for their lack of heat. His thoughts were of that which he had struck in the hills, and of a revenge which he felt he could play off on these people who demanded that he should guide his life as they dictated. He saw subtle possibilities which gave him enjoyment. He would work, and work hard. And then the manner of the revenge he would take! He laughed.
Then his laugh died out, for Jim Thorpe wholly occupied his thoughts, and there was no room for laughter where Jim was concerned. He remembered Jim was making money--and how. Suddenly he paused in his walk, and a delighted exclamation broke from him.
"Gee! The very thing I've been looking for. He's got that land from McLagan. He's going to run a ranch. He's going to play big dog. Gee!
That's the game! Say, master Jim," he went on, apostrophizing the absent man he had so easily learned to hate, "I'll make you a sick man before the snow falls. Gee! You'd b.u.t.t in in my affairs. You're standing Eve's friend." He laughed. "Go ahead, boy. I'll play up to you. Eve shall tell you I'm a reformed man, and you'll feel better.
And then----"
And by the time he reached his home there was apparently a complete transformation in him. The old moody selfishness and brutality toward his wife seemed to have fallen from him like a hideous cloak. He played the game he intended with such an appearance of good faith that the sick woman suddenly experienced the first relief and comfort she had known for months.
He waited on her, repentant and solicitous, till she could hardly believe her senses, and she even forgot to ask the result of his gamble. And the next morning, when necessity forced her to ask him for money, she was content that he returned to her something under ten dollars of that which he had stolen from her.
Later in the day he left for the hills, and from that moment an entire change came over Eve's whole life.
CHAPTER XVII
THE WORKING OF THE PUBLIC MIND
The month following Will's departure from the village saw stirring times for the citizens of Barnriff.
The exploding of Dan McLagan's bombsh.e.l.l in their midst was only the beginning; a mere herald of what was to follow. Excitement after excitement ran riot, until the public mind was dazed, and the only thing that remained clear to it was that crime and fortune were racing neck and neck for possession of their community.
The facts were simple enough in themselves, but the complexity of their possibilities was a difficult problem which troubled Barnriff not a little.
In the first instance McLagan's alarm set everybody agog. Then a systematic wave of cattle-stealing set in throughout the district. Nor were these depredations of an extensive nature. Cattle disappeared in small bunches of from ten to forty head, but the persistence with which the thefts occurred soon set the aggregate mounting up to a large figure.
The "AZ's" lost two more bunches of cattle within a week. The "[diamond] P's" followed up with their quota of forty head, which set "old man" Blundell raving through the district like a mad bull. Then came a raid on the "U--U's." Sandy McIntosh cursed the rustlers in the broadest Scotch, and set out to scour the country with his boys.
Another ranch to suffer was the "crook-bar," but they, like the "TT's," couldn't tell the extent of their losses definitely, and estimated them at close on to thirty head of three-year-old beeves.
The village seethed, furious with indignation. For years Barnriff had been clear of this sort of thing, and, as a consequence, the place had been left to bask in the sun of commercial prosperity consequent upon the thriving condition of the surrounding ranches. Now, that prosperity was threatened. If the ranches suffered Barnriff must suffer with them. Men spoke of a vigilance committee. But they spoke of it without any real enthusiasm. The truth was they were afraid of inaugurating an affair of that sort. There was scarcely a man in the place but had at some time in his life felt the despotic tyranny of a vigilance committee. Though they felt that such an organization was the only way to cope with the prevailing trouble they cordially dreaded it.
Then, in the midst of all this to-do, came the news of Will's rich strike in the hills. He had discovered a "placer" which was yielding a profit of fabulous dimensions. Of how rich his strike really was no one seemed to possess any very definite information. In the calm light of day men spoke of a handsome living wage, but, as the day wore on, and Silas Rocket's whiskey did its work, Will's possible wealth generally ended in wild visions of millions of dollars.
Under this inspiring news the commercial mind of Barnriff was stirred; it was lifted out of the despondency into which the news of the cattle-stealing had plunged it. It cleaned off its rust and began to oil its joints and look to its tools. With the first news it, metaphorically, "reared up." Then Will came into town with a bag of dust and nuggets, and the optical demonstration set lips smacking and eyes gleaming with envy and covetousness. They asked "Where?" But Will shook his head with a cunning leer. Let them go and seek it as he had to do, he said. And forthwith his advice was acted upon by no less than a dozen men, who promptly abandoned profitable billets for the pursuit of the elusive yellow ore.
Two weeks later Will again visited the village. This time he staggered the folks by taking his wife to Abe Horsley's store, and spending two hundred dollars in dry-goods and draperies for her. He flashed a "wad"