288
That was all, but certainly a strange puzzle for a Navajo squaw to set her.
She turned the paper over, to find the other side close-packed with writing.
Miss Lee:In the last cabin but one is a prisoner, your friend Sheriff Flatray. He is to be shot in an hour. I have offered any sum for his life and been refused. For God’s sake save him somehow.Simon West.
Miss Lee:
In the last cabin but one is a prisoner, your friend Sheriff Flatray. He is to be shot in an hour. I have offered any sum for his life and been refused. For God’s sake save him somehow.
Simon West.
Simon West.
Jack Flatray here, and about to be murdered! The thing was incredible. And yet—and yet—— Was it so impossible, after all? Some one had broken into the Cache and released the prisoners. Who more likely than Jack to have done this? And later they had captured him and condemned him for what he had done.
Melissy reconstructed the scene in a flash. The Indian squaw was West. He had been rigged up in that paraphernalia to deceive any chance mountaineer who might drop into the valley by accident.
No doubt, when he first saw Melissy, the railroad magnate had been passing his time in making notes about his plans for the system he controlled. But when he had caught sight of her, he had written the note, under the very eyes of the guard, had torn the envelope as if it were of no importance, and289tossed the pieces away. He had taken the thousandth chance that his note might fall into the hands of the person to whom it was directed.
All this she understood without giving it conscious thought. For her whole mind was filled with the horror of what she had learned. Jack Flatray, the man she loved, was to be killed. He was to be shot down in an hour.
With the thought, she was at her door—only to find that it had been quietly locked while she lay on the bed. No doubt they had meant to keep her a close prisoner until the thing they were about to do was finished. She beat upon it, called to Rosario to let her out, wrung her hands in her desperation. Then she remembered the window. It was a cheap and flimsy case, and had been jammed so that her strength was not sufficient to raise it.
Her eye searched the room for a weapon, and found an Indian tom-tom club. With this she smashed the panes and beat down the wooden cross bars of the sash. Agile as a forest fawn, she slipped through the opening she had made and ran toward the far cabin.
A group of men surrounded the door; and, as she drew near, it opened to show three central figures. MacQueen was one, Rosario Chaves a second; but the most conspicuous was a bareheaded young man, with his hands tied behind him. He was going to his death, but a glance was enough290to show that he went unconquered and unconquerable. His step did not drag. There was a faint, grave smile on his lips; and in his eye was the dynamic spark that proclaimed him still master of his fate. The woolen shirt had been unbuttoned and pulled back to make way for the rope that lay loosely about his neck, so that she could not miss the well-muscled slope of his fine shoulders, or the gallant set of the small head upon the brown throat.
The man who first caught sight of Melissy spoke in a low voice to his chief. MacQueen turned his head sharply to see her, took a dozen steps toward her, then upbraided the Mexican woman, who had run out after Melissy.
“I told you to lock her door—to make sure of it.”
“Si, señor—I did.”
“Then how——” He stopped, and looked to Miss Lee for an explanation.
“I broke the window.”
The outlaw noticed then that her hand was bleeding. “Broke the window! Why?”
“I had to get out! I had to stop you!”
He attempted no denial of what he was about to do. “How did you know? Did Rosario tell you?” he asked curtly.
“No—no! I found out—just by chance.”
“What chance?” He was plainly disconcerted that she had come to interfere, and as plainly eager to punish the person who had disclosed to her this291thing, which he would have liked to do quietly, without her knowledge.
“Never mind that. Nobody is to blame. Say I overheard a sentence. Thank God I did, and I am in time.”
There was no avoiding it now. He had to fight it out with her. “In time for what?” he wanted to know, his eyes narrowing to vicious pin points.
“To save him.”
“No—no! He must die,” cried the Mexican woman.
Melissy was amazed at her vehemence, at the passion of hate that trembled in the voice of the old woman.
MacQueen nodded. “It is out of my hands, you see. He has been condemned.”
“But why?”
“Tell her, Rosario.”
The woman poured her story forth fluently in the native tongue. O’Connor had killed her son—did not deny that he had done it. And just because Tony had tried to escape. This man had freed the ranger. Very well. He should take O’Connor’s place. Let him die the death. A life for a life. Was that not fair?
Flatray turned his head and caught sight of Melissy. A startled cry died on his lips.
“Jack!” She held out both hands to him as she ran toward him.
The sheriff took her in his arms to console her.292For the girl’s face was working in a stress of emotion.
“Oh, I’m in time—I’m in time. Thank God I’m in time.”
Jack waited a moment to steady his voice. “How came you here, Melissy?”
“He brought me—Black MacQueen. I hated him for it, but now I’m glad—so glad—because I can save you.”
Jack winced. He looked over her shoulder at MacQueen, taking it all in with an air of pleasant politeness. And one look was enough to tell him that there was no hope for him. The outlaw had the complacent manner of a cat which has just got at the cream. That Melissy loved him would be an additional reason for wiping him off the map. And in that instant a fierce joy leaped up in Flatray and surged through him, an emotion stronger than the fear of death. She loved him. MacQueen could not take that away from him.
“It’s all a mistake,” Melissy went on eagerly. “Of course they can’t blame you for what Lieutenant O’Connor did. It is absurd—ridiculous.”
“Certainly.” MacQueen tugged at his little black mustache and kept his black eyes on her constantly. “That’s not what we’re blaming him for. The indictment against your friend is that he interfered when it wasn’t his business.”
“But it was his business. Don’t you know he’s293sheriff? He had to do it.” Melissy turned to the outlaw impetuously.
“So. And I have to play my hand out, too. It wipes out Mr. Flatray. Sorry, but business is business.”
“But—but——” Melissy grew pale as the icy fear gripped her heart that the man meant to go on with the crime. “Don’t you see? He’s the sheriff?”
“And I never did love sheriffs,” drawled MacQueen.
The girl repeated herself helplessly. “It was his sworn duty. That was how he looked at it.”
A ghost of an ironic smile flitted across the face of the outlaw chief. “Rosario’s sworn duty is to avenge her son’s death. That is how she looks at it. The rest of us swore the oath with her.”
“But Lieutenant O’Connor had the law back of him. This is murder!”
“Not at all. It is the law of the valley—a life for a life.”
“But—— Oh, no—no—no!”
“Yes.”
The finality of it appalled her. She felt as if she were butting her head against a stone wall. She knew that argument and entreaty were of no avail, yet she desperately besought first one and then another of them to save the prisoner. Each in turn shook his head. She could see that none of them, save Rosario, bore him a grudge; yet none would294move to break the valley oath. At the last, she was through with her promises and her prayers. She had spent them all, and had come up against the wall of blank despair.
Then Jack’s grave smile thanked her. “You’ve done what you could, Melissy.”
She clung to him wildly. “Oh, no—no! I can’t let you go, Jack. I can’t. I can’t.”
“I reckon it’s got to be, dear,” he told her gently.
But her breaking heart could not stand that. There must somehow be a way to save him. She cast about desperately for one, and had not found it when she begged the outlaw chief to see her alone.
“No use.” He shook his head.
“But just for five minutes! That can’t do any harm, can it?”
“And no good, either.”
“Yet I ask it. You might do that much for me,” she pleaded.
Her despair had moved him; for he was human, after all. That he was troubled about it annoyed him a good deal. Her arrival on the scene had made things unpleasant for everybody. Ungraciously he assented, as the easiest way out of the difficulty.
The two moved off to the corral. It was perhaps thirty yards distant, and they reached it before either of them spoke. She was the first to break the silence.
295“OH, NO—NO! I CAN’T LET YOU GO, JACK. I CAN’T. I CAN’T.”Page 294.
“OH, NO—NO! I CAN’T LET YOU GO, JACK. I CAN’T. I CAN’T.”Page 294.
296
“You won’t do this dreadful thing—surely, you won’t do it.”
“No use saying another word about it. I told you that,” he answered doggedly.
“But—— Oh, don’t you see? It’s one of those things no white man can do. Once it’s done, you have put the bars up against decency for the rest of your life.”
“I reckon I’ll have to risk that—and down in your heart you don’t believe it, because you think I’ve had the bars up for years.”
She had come to an impasse already. She tried another turn. “And you said you cared for me! Yet you are willing to make me unhappy for the rest of my life.”
“Why, no! I’m willing to make you happy. There’s fish in the sea just as good as any that ever were caught,” he smirked.
“But it would help you to free him. Don’t you see? It’s your chance. You can begin again, now. You can make him your friend.”
His eyes were hard and grim. “I don’t want him for a friend, and you’re dead wrong if you think I could make this a lever to square myself with the law. I couldn’t. He wouldn’t let me, for one thing—he isn’t that kind.”
“And you said you cared for me!” she repeated helplessly, wringing her hands in her despair. “But at the first chance you fail me.”
“Can’t you see it isn’t a personal matter? I’ve297got nothing against him—nothing to speak of. I’d give him to you, if I could. But it’s not my say-so. The thing is out of my hands.”
“You could save him, if you set yourself to.”
“Sure, I could—if I would pay the price. But I won’t pay.”
“That’s it. You would have to give Rosario something—make some concession,” she said eagerly.
“And I’m not willing to pay the price,” he told her. “His life’s forfeit. Hasn’t he been hunting us for a week?”
“Let me pay it,” she cried. “I have money in my own right—seven thousand dollars. I’ll give it all to save him.”
He shook his head. “No use. We’ve turned down a big offer from West. Your seven thousand isn’t a drop in the bucket.”
She beat her hands together wildly. “There must be some way to save him.”
The outlaw was looking at her with narrowed eyes. He saw a way, and was working it out in his mind. “You’re willing to pay, are you?” he asked.
“Yes—yes! All I have.”
He put his arms akimbo on the corral fence, and looked long at her. “Suppose the price can’t be paid in money, Miss Lee.”
“What do you mean?”
“Money isn’t the only thing in this world. There298are lots of things it won’t buy that other things will,” he said slowly.
She groped for his meaning, her wide eyes fixed on his, and still did not find it. “Be plainer, please. What can I do to save him?”
“You might marry me.”
“Never!”
“Just as you say. You were looking for a way, and I suggested one. Anyhow, you’re mine.”
“I won’t do it!”
“You wanted me to pay the price; but you don’t want to pay yourself.”
“I couldn’t do it. It would be horrible!” But she knew she could and must.
“Why couldn’t you? I’m ready to cut loose from this way of living. When I pull off this one big thing, I’ll quit. We’ll go somewhere and begin life again. You said I could. Well, I will. You’ll help me to keep straight. It won’t be only his life you are saving. It will be mine, too.”
“No—I don’t love you! How could a girl marry a man she didn’t care for and didn’t respect?”
“I’ll make you do both before long. I’m the kind of man women love.”
“You’re the kind I hate,” she flashed bitterly.
“I’ll risk your hate, my dear,” he laughed easily.
She did not look at him. Her eyes were on the horizon line, where sky and pine tops met. He knew that she was fighting it out to a decision, and he did not speak again.299
After all, she was only a girl. Right and wrong were inextricably mixed in her mind. It was not right to marry this man. It was not right to let the sheriff die while she could save him. She was generous to the core. But there was something deeper than generosity. Her banked love for Flatray flooded her in a great cry of protest against his death. She loved him. She loved him. Much as she detested this man, revolting as she found the thought of being linked to him, the impulse to sacrifice herself was the stronger feeling of the two. Deep in her heart she knew that she could not let Jack go to his death so long as it was possible to prevent it.
Her grave eyes came back to MacQueen. “I’ll have to tell you one thing—I’ll hate you worse than ever after this. Don’t think I’ll ever change my mind about that. I won’t.”
He twirled his little mustache complacently.
“I’ll have to risk that, as I said.”
“You’ll take me to Mesa to-day. As soon as we get there a justice of the peace will marry us. From his house we’ll go directly to father’s. You won’t lie to me.”
“No. I’ll play out the game square, if you do.”
“And after we’re married, what then?”
“You may stay at home until I get this ransom business settled. Then we’ll go to Sonora.”
“How do you know I’ll go?”
“I’ll trust you.”300
“Then it’s a bargain.”
Without another word, they turned back to rejoin the group by the cabin. Before they had gone a dozen steps she stopped.
“What about Mr. Flatray? You will free him, of course.”
“Yes. I’ll take him right out due north of here, about four miles. He’ll be blindfolded. There we’ll leave him, with instructions how to reach Mesa.”
“I’ll go with you,” she announced promptly.
“What for?”
“To make sure that you do let him go—alive.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “All right. I told you I was going to play fair. I haven’t many good points, but that is one of them. I don’t give my word and then break it.”
“Still, I’ll go.”
He laughed angrily. “That’s your privilege.”
She turned on him passionately. “You’ve got no right to resent it, though I don’t care a jackstraw whether you do or not. I’m not going into this because I want to, but to save this man from the den of wolves into which he has fallen. If you knew how I despise and hate you, how my whole soul loathes you, maybe you wouldn’t be so eager to go on with it! You’ll get nothing out of this but the pleasure of torturing a girl who can’t defend herself.”
“We’ll see about that,” he answered doggedly.
301CHAPTER XTHE PRICE
MacQueen lost no time in announcing his new program.
“Boys, the hanging’s off. I’ve decided to accept West’s offer for Flatray’s life. It’s too good to turn down.”
“That’s what I told you all the time,” growled Buck.
“Well, I’m tellingyounow. The money will be divided equally among you, except that Rosario will get my share as well as hers.”
Rosario Chaves broke into fierce protests. Finding these unheeded, she cursed the outlaws furiously and threatened vengeance upon them. She did not want money; she wanted this man’s life. The men accepted this as a matter of course, and paid little attention to the ravings of the old woman.
At the first news of his reprieve, Jack saw things through a haze for a moment. But he neither broke down nor showed undue exultation.
His first thought was of relief, of profound comfort; his next of wonder and suspicion. How under302heaven had Melissy won his life for him? He looked quickly at her, but the eyes of the girl did not meet his.
“Melissy.” Flatray spoke very gently, but something in the way he spoke compelled the young woman to meet his eyes.
Almost instantly the long lashes went down to her pale cheeks again.
MacQueen cut in suavely: “I reckon this is the time for announcements. Boys, Miss Lee has promised to marry me.”
Before the stir which this produced had died away, Flatray flashed a question: “In exchange for my life?”
The chief of the outlaws looked at him with insolence smoldering in his black eyes. “Now, I wonder when you ever will learn to mind your own business, sheriff! Nobody invited you to sit into this game.”
“Thisismy business. I make it mine. Give me a straight answer, Melissy. Am I right? Is it for my life?”
“Yes.” Her voice was so low he could hardly hear it.
“Then I won’t have it! The thing is infamous. I can’t hide behind the skirts of a girl, least of all you. I can die, but, by God, I’ll keep my self-respect.”
“It’s all arranged,” Melissy answered in a whisper.303
Flatray laughed harshly. “I guess not. You can’t pay my debts by giving yourself to life-long misery.”
“You’re right pessimistic, sheriff,” sneered MacQueen.
“What do you take me for? I won’t have it. I won’t have it.” The sheriff’s voice was rough and hoarse. “I’d rather die fifty times.”
“It’s not up to you to choose, as it happens,” the leader of the outlaws suggested suavely.
“You villain! You damned white-livered coward!” The look of the young sheriff scorched.
“Speaks right out in meeting, don’t he?” grinned Lane.
“I know what he is, Jack,” Melissy cried. “And he knows I think he’s the lowest thing that crawls. But I’ve got to save you. Don’t you see, I’ve got to do it?”
“No, I don’t see it,” Flatray answered hotly. “I can take what’s coming to me, can’t I? But if you save my life that way you make me as low a thing as he is. I say I’ll not have it.”
Melissy could stand it no longer. She began to sob. “I—I—Oh, Jack, I’ve got to do it. Don’t you see? Don’t you see?It won’t make any difference with me if I don’t.No difference—except that you’ll be—dead.”
She was in his embrace, her arms around his neck, whispering the horrible truth in his ear brokenly. And as he felt her dear young fragrance304of hair in his nostrils, the warm, soft litheness of her body against his, the rage and terror in him flooded his veins. Could such things be? Was it possible a man like that could live? Not if he could help it.
Gently he unfastened her arms from his neck. MacQueen was standing a dozen feet away, his hands behind his back and his legs wide apart. As Flatray swung around the outlaw read a warning in the blazing eyes. Just as Jack tore loose from his guards MacQueen reached for his revolver.
The gun flashed. A red hot blaze scorched through Jack’s arm. Next instant MacQueen lay flat on his back, the sheriff’s fingers tight around his throat. If he could have had five seconds more the man’s neck would have been broken. But they dragged him away, fighting like a wild cat. They flung him down and tied his hands behind him.
Melissy caught a glimpse of his bleeding arm, his torn and dusty face, the appalling ferocity of the men who were hammering him into the ground. She took a step forward blindly. The mountains in front of her tilted into the sky. She moved forward another step, then stumbled and went down. She had fainted.
“Just as well,” MacQueen nodded. “Here, Rosario, look after the young lady. Lift Flatray to a horse, boys, after you’ve blindfolded him. Good enough. Oh, and one thing more, Flatray. You’re covered by a rifle. If you lift a hand to slip that305handkerchief from your eyes, you’re giving the signal for Jeff to turn loose at you. We’re going to take you away, but we don’t aim to let you out of the Cache for a few days yet.”
“What do you mean?”
MacQueen jeered at his prisoner openly. “I mean, Mr. Sheriff, that you’ll stay with us till the girl does as she has promised. Understand?”
“I think so, you hellhound. You’re going to hold me against her so that she can’t change her mind.”
“Exactly. So that she can’t rue back. You’ve guessed it.”
They rode for hours, but in what direction it was impossible for Flatray to guess. He could tell when they were ascending, when dropping down hill, but in a country so rugged this meant nothing.
When at last he dismounted and the kerchief was taken from his eyes he found himself in a little pocket of the hills in front of an old log cabin. Jeff stayed with him. The others rode away. But not till they had him safely tied to a heavy table leg within the hut.
306CHAPTER XISQUIRE LATIMER TAKES A HAND
“You’re to make ready for a trip to town,señorita.”
“When?”
“At once,” Rosario answered. “By orders ofSeñorMacQueen.”
“Then he is back?” the girl flashed.
“Just back.”
“Tell him I want to see him—immediately.”
“I am to take you to him as soon as you are ready to ride.”
“Oh, very well.”
In a very few minutes the young woman was ready. Rosario led her to the cabin in front of which she had seen the old Indian squaw. In it were seated Simon West and Black MacQueen. Both of them rose at her entrance.
“Please take a chair, Miss Lee. We have some business to talk over,” the outlaw suggested.
Melissy looked straight at him, her lips shut tight. “What have you done with Jack Flatray?” she presently demanded.307
“Left him to find his way back to his friends.”
“You didn’t hurt him ... any more?”
“No.”
“And you left him alone, wounded as he was.”
“We fixed up his wound,” lied MacQueen.
“Was it very bad?”
“A scratch. I had to do it.”
“You needn’t apologize to me.”
“I’m not apologizing, you little wild-cat.”
“What do you want with me? Why did you send for me?”
“We’re going to Mesa to see a parson. But before we start there’s some business to fix up. Mr. West and I will need your help to fix up the negotiations for his release.”
“My help!” She looked at him in surprise. “How can I help?”
“I’ve laid my demands before his friends. They’ll come through with the money, sure. But I want them to understand the conditions right plainly, so there won’t be any mistake. What they have got to get soaked into their heads is that, if they do make any mistakes, they will not see Simon West again alive. You put that up to them strong.”
“I’m not going to be your agent in robbing people of their money!” she told him swiftly.
“You don’t understand. Mr. West wants you to do it. He wants you to explain the facts to his friends, so they won’t act rash and get off wrong foot first.”308
“Oh! If Mr. West wishes it,” she conceded.
“I do wish it,” the great man added.
Though his face and hands were still stained with the dye that had been used on them, the railroad builder was now dressed in his own clothes. The girl thought that he looked haggard and anxious, and she was sure that her presence brought him relief. In his own way he was an indomitable fighter, but his experience had not included anything of this nature.
Jack Flatray could look at death level-eyed, and with an even pulse, because for him it was all in the day’s work; but the prospect of it shook West’s high-strung nerves. Nevertheless, he took command of the explanations, because it had been his custom for years to lead.
MacQueen, his sardonic smile in play, sat back and let West do most of the talking. Both men were working for the same end—to get the ransom paid as soon as possible—and the multimillionaire released; and the outlaw realized that Melissy would coöperate the more heartily if she felt she were working for West and not for himself.
“This is Tuesday, Miss Lee. You will reach Mesa some time to-night. My friends ought to be on the ground already. I want you and your father to get in touch with them right away, and arrange the details along the line laid down by Mr. MacQueen. In case they agree to everything and understand fully, have the Stars and Stripes flying309from your house all day to-morrow as a signal. Don’t on any account omit this—because, if you do, my captors will have to hold me longer, pending further negotiations. I have written a letter to Mr. Lucas, exonerating you completely, Miss Lee; and I have ordered him to comply with all these demands without parley.”
“Our proposition seems to Mr. West very reasonable and fair,” grinned MacQueen impishly, paring his finger nails.
“At any rate, I think that my life is worth to this country a good deal more than three hundred thousand dollars,” West corrected.
“Besides being worth something to Simon West,” the outlaw added carelessly.
West plunged into the details of delivering the money. Once or twice the other man corrected him or amplified some statement. In order that there could be no mistake, a map of Sweetwater Cañon was handed to Melissy to be used by the man who would bring the money to the rendezvous at the Devil’s Causeway.
When it came to saying good-bye, the old man could scarce make up his mind to release the girl’s hand. It seemed to him that she was the visible sign of his safety, and that with her departure went a safeguard from these desperate men. He could not forget that she had saved the life of the sheriff, even though he did not know what sacrifice she had made so to do.310
“I know you’ll do your best for me,” he said, with tears in his eyes. “Make Lucas see this thing right. Don’t let any fool detectives bunco him into refusing to pay the ransom. Put it to him as strongly as you can, that it will be either my life or the money. I have ordered him to pay it, and I want it paid.”
Melissy nodded. “I’ll tell him how it is, Mr. West. I know it will be all right. By Thursday afternoon we shall have you with us to dinner again. Trust us.”
“I do.” He lowered his voice and glanced at MacQueen, who had been called aside to speak to one of his men. “And I’m glad you’re going away from here. This is no place for you.”
“It isn’t quite the place for you, either,” she answered, with a faint, joyless smile.
They started an hour before midday. Rosario had packed a lunch for both of them in MacQueen’s saddlebags, for it was the intention of the latter to avoid ranches and traveled trails on the way down. He believed that the girl would go through with what she had pledged herself to do, but he did not mean to take chances of a rescue.
In the middle of the afternoon they stopped for lunch at Round-up Spring—a water hole which had not dried up in a dozen years. It was a somber meal. Melissy’s spirits had been sinking lower and lower with every mile that brought her nearer the destiny into which this man was forcing her. Food311choked her, and she ate but little. Occasionally, with staring eyes, she would fall into a reverie, from which his least word would startle her to a shiver of apprehension. This she always controlled after the first instinctive shudder.
“What’s the matter with you, girl? I’m not going to hurt you any. I never hit a woman in my life,” the man said once roughly.
“Perhaps you may, after you’re married. It’s usually one’s wife one beats. Don’t be discouraged. You’ll have the experience yet,” she retorted, but without much spirit.
“To hear you tell it, I’m a devil through and through! It’s that kind of talk that drives a man to drink,” he flung out angrily.
“And to wife beating. Of course, I’m not your chattel yet, because the ceremony hasn’t been read; but if you would like to anticipate a few hours and beat me, I don’t suppose there is any reason you shouldn’t.”
“Gad! How you hate me!”
Her inveteracy discouraged him. His good looks, his debonair manner, the magnetic charm he knew how to exert—these, which had availed him with other women, did not seem to reach her at all. She really gave him no chance to prove himself. He was ready to be grave or gay—to be a light-hearted boy or a blasé man of the world—to adopt any rôle that would suit her. But how could one play up effectively to a chill silence which took no note of312him, to a depression of the soul which would not let itself be lifted? He felt that she was living up to the barest letter of the law in fulfilling their contract, and because of it he steeled himself against her sufferings.
There was one moment of their ride when she stood on the tiptoe of expectation and showed again the sparkle of eager life. MacQueen had resaddled after their luncheon, and they were climbing a long sidehill that looked over a dry valley. With a gesture, the outlaw checked her horse.
“Look!”
Some quarter of a mile from them two men were riding up a wash that ran through the valley. The mesquite and the cactus were thick, and it was for only an occasional moment that they could be seen. Black and the girl were screened from view by a live oak in front of them, so that there was no danger of being observed. The outlaw got out his field glasses and watched the men intently.
Melissy could not contain the question that trembled on her lips: “Do you know them?”
“I reckon not.”
“Perhaps——”
“Well!”
“May I look—please?”
He handed her the glasses. She had to wait for the riders to reappear, but when they did she gave a little cry.
“It’s Mr. Bellamy!”313
“Oh, is it?”
He looked at her steadily, ready to crush in her throat any call she might utter for help. But he soon saw that she had no intention of making her presence known. Her eyes were glued to the glasses. As long as the men were in sight she focused her gaze on them ravenously. At last a bend in the dry river bed hid them from view. She lowered the binoculars with a sigh.
“Lucky they didn’t see us,” he said, with his easy, sinister laugh. “Lucky for them.”
She noticed for the first time that he had uncased his rifle and was holding it across the saddle-tree.
Night slipped silently down from the hills—the soft, cool, velvet night of the Arizona uplands. The girl drooped in the saddle from sheer exhaustion. The past few days had been hard ones, and last night she had lost most of her sleep. She had ridden far on rough trails, had been subjected to a stress of emotion to which her placid maiden life had been unused. But she made no complaint. It was part of the creed she had unconsciously learned from her father to game out whatever had to be endured.
The outlaw, though he saw her fatigue, would not heed it. She had chosen to set herself apart from him. Let her ask him to stop and rest, if she wanted to. It would do her pride good to be humbled. Yet in his heart he admired her the more,314because she asked no favors of him and forbore the womanish appeal of tears.
His watch showed eleven o’clock by the moon when the lights of Mesa glimmered in the valley below.
“We’ll be in now in half an hour,” he said.
She had no comment to make, and silence fell between them again until they reached the outskirts of the town.
“We’ll get off here and walk in,” he ordered; and, after she had dismounted, he picketed the horses close to the road. “You can send for yours in the mornin’. Mine will be in the livery barn by that time.”
The streets were practically deserted in the residential part of the town. Only one man they saw, and at his approach MacQueen drew Melissy behind a large lilac bush.
As the man drew near the outlaw’s hand tightened on the shoulder of the girl. For the man was her father—dusty, hollow-eyed, and haggard. The two crouching behind the lilacs knew that this iron man was broken by his fears for his only child, the girl who was the apple of his eye.
Not until he was out of hearing did Melissy open her lips to the stifled cry she had suppressed. Her arms went out to him, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. For herself she had not let herself break down, but for her father’s grief her heart was like water.315
“All right. Don’t break down now. You’ll be with him inside of half an hour,” the outlaw told her gruffly.
They stopped at a house not much farther down the street, and he rang the bell. It took a second ring to bring a head out of the open window upstairs.
“Well?” a sleepy voice demanded.
“Is this Squire Latimer?”
“Yes.”
“Come down. We want to get married.”
“Then why can’t you come at a reasonable hour?—consarn it!”
“Never mind that. There’s a good fee in it. Hurry up!”
Presently the door opened. “Come in. You can wait in the hall till I get a light.”
“No—I don’t want a light. We’ll step into this room, and be married at once,” MacQueen told him crisply.
“I don’t know about that. I’m not marrying folks that can’t be looked at.”
“You’ll marry us, and at once. I’m Black MacQueen!”
It was ludicrous to see how the justice of the peace fell back in terror before the redoubtable bad man of the hills.
“Well, I don’t know as a light is a legal necessity; but we got to have witnesses.”
“Have you any in the house?”316
“My daughter and a girl friend of hers are sleeping upstairs. I’ll call them, Mr. Black—er—I mean Mr. MacQueen.”
The outlaw went with the squire to the foot of the stairs, whence Latimer wakened the girls and told them to dress at once, as quickly as possible. A few minutes later they came down—towsled, eyes heavy with sleep, giggling at each other in girlish fashion. But when they knew whose marriage they were witnessing, giggles and sleep fled together.
They were due for another surprise later. MacQueen and his bride were standing in the heavy shadows, so that both bulked vaguely in mere outline. Hitherto, Melissy had not spoken a word. The time came when it was necessary for the justice to know the name of the girl whom he was marrying. Her answer came at once, in a low, scarcely audible voice:
“Melissy Lee.”
An electric shock could scarce have startled them more. Of all the girls in Mesa none was so proud as Melissy Lee, none had been so far above criticism, such a queen in the frontier town. She had spent a year in school at Denver; she had always been a social leader. While she had always been friendly to the other girls, they had looked upon her with a touch of awe. She had all the things they craved, from beauty to money. And now she was marrying at midnight, in the dark, the most notorious bad man of Arizona!317
Here was a wonder of wonders to tell the other girls to-morrow. The only pity was that they could not see her face—and his. They had heard that he was handsome. No doubt that accounted for it. And what could be more romantic than a love match with such a fascinating villain? Probably he had stormed her heart irresistibly.
The service proceeded. The responses of the man came clearly and triumphantly, those of the girl low but distinctly. It was the custom of the justice to join the hands of the parties he was marrying; but when he moved to do so this girl put both of hers quickly behind her. It was his custom also to kiss the bride after pronouncing them man and wife; but he omitted this, too, on the present occasion. Nor did the groom kiss her.
The voice of the justice died away. They stood before him man and wife. The witnesses craned forward to see the outlaw embrace his bride. Instead, he reached into his pocket and handed Latimer a bill. The denomination of it was one hundred dollars, but the justice did not discover that until later.
“I reckon that squares us,” the bad man said unsentimentally. “Now, all of you back to bed.”
MacQueen and his bride passed out into the night. The girls noticed that she did not take his arm; that she even drew back, as if to avoid touching him as they crossed the threshold.318
Not until they reached the gate of her father’s house did MacQueen speak.
“I’m not all coyote, girl. I’ll give you the three days I promised you. After that you’ll join me wherever I say.”
“Yes,” she answered without spirit.
“You’ll stand pat to our agreement. When they try to talk you out of it you won’t give in?”
“No.”
She was deadly weary, could scarce hold up her head.
“If you lie to me I’ll take it out on your folks. Don’t forget that Jack Flatray will have to pay if you double-cross me.”
“No.”
“He’ll have to pay in full.”
“You mean you’ll capture him again.”
“I mean we won’t have to do that. We haven’t turned him loose yet.”
“Then you lied to me?” She stared at him with wide open eyes of horror.
“I had to keep him to make sure of you.”
Her groan touched his vanity, or was it perhaps his pity?
“I’m not going to hurt him—if you play fair. I tell you I’m no cur. Help me, girl, and I’ll quit this hell raising and live decent.”
She laughed without joy, bitterly.
“Oh, I know what you think,” he continued. “I can’t blame you. But what do you know about my319life? What do you know about what I’ve had to fight against? All my life there has been some devil in me, strangling all the good. There has been nobody to give me a helping hand—none to hold me back. I was a dog with a bad name—good enough for hanging, and nothing else.”
He was holding the gate, and perforce she had to hear him out.
“What do I care about that?” she cried, in a fierce gust of passion. “I see you are cur and coward! You lied to me. You didn’t keep faith and free Jack Flatray. That is enough.”
She was the one person in the world who had power to wound him. Nor did it hurt the less that it was the truth. He drew back as if the lash of a whip had swept across his face.
“No man alive can say that to me and live!” he told her. “Cur I may be; but you’re my wife, ’Lissie MacQueen. Don’t forget that.”
“Go! Go!” she choked. “I hope to God I’ll never see your face again!”
She flew along the grass-bordered walk, whipped open the front door, and disappeared within. She turned the key in the lock, and stood trembling in the darkness. She half expected him to follow, to attempt to regain possession of her.
But the creak of his quick step on the porch did not come. Only her hammering heart stirred in the black silence. She drew a long breath of relief, and sank down on the stairs. It was over at last,320the horrible nightmare through which she had been living.
Gradually she fought down her fears and took hold of herself. She must find her father and relieve his anxiety. Quietly she opened the door of the hall into the living room.
A man sat at the table, with his back to her, in an attitude of utter dejection. He was leaning forward, with his head buried in his arms. It was her father. She stepped forward, and put her hands on his bowed shoulders.
“Daddy,” she said softly.
At her touch the haggard, hopeless, unshaven face was lifted toward her. For a moment Lee looked at her as if she had been a wraith. Then, with a hoarse cry, he arose and caught her in his arms.
Neither of them could speak for emotion. He tried it twice before he could get out:
“Baby! Honey!”
He choked back the sobs in his throat. “Where did you come from? I thought sure MacQueen had you.”
“He had. He took me to Dead Man’s Cache with him.”
“And you escaped. Praise the Lord, honey!”
“No—he brought me back.”
“MacQueen did! Goddlemighty—he knows what’s best for him!”
“He brought me back to—to——” She broke down, and buried her head in his shoulder.321
Long, dry sobs racked her. The father divined with alarm that he did not know the worst.
“Tell me—tell me, ’Lissie! Brought you back to do what, honey?” He held her back from him, his hands on her shoulders.
“To marry me.”
“What!”
“To marry me. And he did—fifteen minutes ago, I am Black MacQueen’s wife.”
“Black MacQueen’s wife! My God, girl!” Big Beauchamp Lee stared at her in a horror of incredulity.
She told him the whole story, from beginning to end.