Gunman's Reckoning by Max Brand (read novel full TXT) 📗
- Author: Max Brand
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"It is I," she whispered.
There was a soft exclamation, then she was drawn into the room.
"Is there anyone here?"
"Only big George. But he's in the kitchen and he won't hear. He never hears anything except what's meant for his ear. Take this chair!"
He was putting a blanket over the rough wood to make it more comfortable, and she submitted dumbly to his ministrations. It seemed terrible and strange to her that one so gentle should be the object of so much hate—such deadly hate as the members of Nick's gang felt for him. And now that he was sitting before her she could see that he had indeed been wakeful for a long time. His face was grimly wasted; the lips were compressed as one who has endured long pain; and his eyes gleamed at her out of a profound shadow. He remained in the gloom; the light from the lantern fell brightly upon his hands alone—meager, fleshless hands which seemed to represent hardly more strength than that of a child. Truly this man was all a creature of spirit and nerve. Therein lay his strength, as also his weakness, and again the cherishing instinct grew strong and swept over her.
"There is no one near," he said, "except the colonel and his daughter. They are up the hillside, somewhere. Did you see them?"
"No. What in the world are they out for at this time of night?"
"Because the colonel only wakes up when the sun goes down. And now he's out there humming to himself and never speaking a word to the girl. But they won't be far away. They'll stay close to see that no one comes near the cabin to get at Landis."
He added: "They must have seen you come into my cabin!"
And his lips set even harder than before. Was it fear because of her?
"They may have seen me enter, but they won't know who it was. You have the note from me?"
"Yes."
"It's a lie! It's a ruse. I was forced to write it to save you! For they're planning to murder you. Oh, my dear!"
"Hush! Hush! Murder?"
"I've been nearly hysterical all day and all the night. But. thank heaven, I'm here to warn you in time! You mustn't go. You mustn't go!"
"Who is it?"
He had drawn his chair closer: he had taken her hands, and she noted that his own were icy cold, but steady as a rock. Their pressure soothed her infinitely.
"Joe Rix, the Pedlar, Harry Masters. They'll be at the shack at ten o'clock, but not I!"
"Murder, but a very clumsy scheme. Three men leave town and commit a murder and then expect to go undetected? Not even in the mountain desert!"
"But you don't understand, you don't understand! They're wise as foxes. They'll take no risk. They don't even leave town together or travel by the same routes. Harry Masters starts first. He rides out at eight o'clock in the morning and takes the north trail. He rides down the gulch and winds out of it and strikes for the shack at the ford. At half past eight the Pedlar starts. He goes past Sandy's place and then over the trail through the marsh. You know it?"
"Yes."
"Last of all, Joe Rix starts at nine o'clock. Half an hour between them."
"How does he go to the shack?"
"By the south trail. He takes the ridge of the hills. But they'll all be at the shack long before you and they'll shoot you down from a distance as you come up to it. Plain murder, but even for cowardly murder they daren't face you except three to one."
He was thoughtful.
"Suppose they were to be met on the way?"
"You're mad to think of it!"
"But if they fail this time they'll try again. They must be taught a lesson."
"Three men? Oh, my dear, my dear! Promise!"
"Very well. I shall do nothing rash. And I shall never forget that you've come to tell me this and been in peril, Nell, for if they found you had come to me—"
"The Pedlar would cut my throat. I know him!"
"Ah! But now you must go. I'll take you down the hill, dear."
"No, no! It's much easier to get back alone. My face will be covered. But there's no way you could be disguised. You have a way of walking—good night—and God bless you!"
She was in his arms, straining him to her; and then she slipped out the door.
And sure enough, there was the colonel in his chair not fifty feet away with a girl pushing him. The moonlight was too dim for Nelly Lebrun to make out the face of Lou Macon, but even the light which escaped through the filter of clouds was enough to set her golden hair glowing. The color was not apparent, but its luster was soft silver in the night. There was a murmur of the colonel's voice as Nelly came out of the cabin.
And then, from the girl, a low cry.
It brought the blood to the cheeks of Nelly as she hurried down the hill, for she recognized the pain that was in it; and it occurred to her that if the girl was in love with Jack Landis she was strangely interested in Donnegan also.
The thought came so sharply home to her that she paused abruptly on the way down the hill. After all, this Macon girl would be a very strange sort if she were not impressed by the little red-headed man, with his gentle voice and his fiery ways, and his easy way of making himself a brilliant spectacle whenever he appeared in public. And Nelly remembered, also, with the keen suspicion of a woman in love how weakly Donnegan had responded to her embrace this night. How absent-mindedly his arms had held her, and how numbly they had fallen away when she turned at the door.
But she shook her head and made the suspicion shudder its way out of her. Lou Macon, she decided, was just the sort of girl who would think Jack Landis an ideal. Besides, she had never had an opportunity to see Donnegan in his full glory at Milligan's. And as for Donnegan? He was wearied out; his nerves relaxed; and for the deeds with which he had startled The Corner and won her own heart he was now paying the penalty in the shape of ruined nerves. Pity again swelled in her heart, and a consuming hatred for the three murderers who lived in her father's house.
And when she reached her room again her heart was filled with a singing happiness and a glorious knowledge that she had saved the man she loved.
And Donnegan himself?
He had seen Lou and her father: he had heard that low cry of pain; and now he sat bowed again over his table, his face in his hands and a raging devil in his heart.
41
There was one complication which Nelly Lebrun might have foreseen after her pretended change of heart and her simulated confession to Joe Rix that she still loved the lionlike Lord Nick. But strangely enough she did not think of this phase: and even when her father the next morning approached her in the hall and tapping her arm whispered: "Good girl! Nick has just heard and he's hunting for you now!" Even then the full meaning did not come home to her. It was not until she saw the great form of Lord Nick stalking swiftly down the hall that she knew. He came with a glory in his face which the last day had graven with unfamiliar lines; and when he saw her he threw up his hand so that it almost brushed the ceiling, and cried out.
What could she do? Try to push him away; to explain?
There was nothing to be done. She had to submit when he swept her into his arms.
"Rix has told me. Rix has told me. Ah, Nell, you little fox!"
"Told you what, Nick?"
Was he, too, a party to the murderous plan?
But he allowed himself to be pushed away.
"I've gone through something in the last few days. Why did you do it, girl?"
She saw suddenly that she must continue to play her part.
"Some day I'll tell you why it was that I gave you up so easily, Nell. You thought I was afraid of Donnegan?" He ground his teeth and turned pale at the thought. "But that wasn't it. Some day I can tell you. But after this, the first man who comes between us—Donnegan or any other—I'll turn him into powder—under my heel!"
He ground it into the floor as he spoke. She decided that she would see how much he knew.
"It will never be Donnegan, at least," she said. "He's done for today. And I'm almost sorry for him in spite of all that he's done."
He became suddenly grave.
"What are you saying, Nell?"
"Why, Joe told you, didn't he? They've drawn Donnegan out of town, and now they're lying in wait for him. Yes, they must have him, by this time. It's ten o'clock!"
A strangely tense exclamation broke from Lord Nick. "They've gone for Donnegan?"
"Yes. Are you angry?"
The big man staggered; one would have said that he had been stunned with a blow.
"Garry!" he whispered.
"What are you saying?"
"Nell," he muttered hoarsely, "did you know about it?"
"But I did it for you, Nick. I knew you hated—"
"No, no! Don't say it!" He added bitterly, after a moment. "This is for my sins."
And then, to her: "But you knew about it and didn't warn him? You hated him all the time you were laughing with him and smiling at him? Oh, Nell! What a merciless witch of a woman you are! For the rest of them—I'll wait till they come back!"
"What are you going to do, Nick?"
"I told them I'd pay the man who killed Donnegan—with lead. Did the fools think I didn't mean it?"
Truly, no matter what shadow had passed over the big man, he was the lion again, and Nell shrank from him.
"We'll wait for them," he said. "We'll wait for them here."
And they sat down together in the room. She attempted to speak once in a shaken voice, but he silenced her with a gesture, and after that she sat and watched in quiet the singular play of varying expressions across his face. Grief, rage, tenderness, murderous hate—they followed like a puppet play.
What was Donnegan to him? And then there was a tremor of fear. Would the three suspect when they reached the shack by the ford and no Donnegan came to them? The moments stole on. Then the soft beat of a galloping horse in the sand. The horse stopped. Presently they saw Joe Rix and Harry Masters pass in front of the window. And they looked as though a cyclone had caught them up, juggled them a dizzy distance in the air, and then flung them down carelessly upon bruising rocks. Their hats were gone; and the clothes of burly Harry Masters were literally torn from his back. Joe Rix was evidently far more terribly hurt, for he leaned on the arm of Masters and they came on together, staggering.
"They've done the business!" exclaimed Lord Nick. "And now, curse them, I'll do theirs!"
But the girl could not speak. A black haze crossed before her eyes. Had Donnegan gone out madly to fight the three men in spite of her warning?
The door opened. They stood in the doorway, and if they had seemed a horrible sight passing the window, they were a deadly picture at close range. And opposite them stood Lord Nick; in spite of their wounds there was murder in his face and his revolver was out.
"You've met him? You've met Donnegan?" he asked angrily.
Masters literally carried Joe Rix to a chair and placed him in it. He had been shot through both shoulders, and though tight bandages had stanched the wound he was still in agony. Then Masters raised his head.
"We've met him," he said.
"What happened?"
But Masters, in spite of the naked gun in the hand of Lord Nick, was looking straight at Nelly Lebrun.
"We fought him."
"Then say your prayers, Masters."
"Say prayers for the Pedlar, you fool," said Masters bitterly. "He's dead, and Donnegan's still living!"
There was a faint cry from Nelly Lebrun. She sank into her chair again.
"We've been double-crossed," said Masters, still looking at the girl. "I was going down the gulch the way we planned. I come to the narrow place where the cliffs almost touch, and right off the wall above me drops a wildcat. I thought it was a cat at first. And
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