The Border Legion by Zane Grey (books suggested by bill gates txt) 📗

Jim Cleve suddenly appeared to regain power of speech and motion. “Don't, Kells, don't!” he cried, piercingly, as he leaped forward.

But neither Kells nor the others heard him, or even saw his movement.

Kells cut the deck. He held up his card. It was the king of hearts. What a transformation! His face might have been that of a corpse suddenly revivified with glorious, leaping life.

“Only an ace can beat thet!” muttered Jesse Smith into the silence.

Gulden reached for the deck as if he knew every card left was an ace. His cavernous eyes gloated over Kells. He cut, and before he looked himself he let Kells see the card.

“You can't beat my streak!” he boomed.

Then he threw the card upon the table. It was the ace of spades.

Kells seemed to shrivel, to totter, to sink. Jim Cleve went quickly to him, held to him.

“Kells, go say good—by to your girl!” boomed Gulden. “I'll want her pretty soon.... Come on, you Beady and Braverman. Here's your chance to get even.”

Gulden resumed his seat, and the two bandits invited to play were eager to comply, while the others pressed close once more.

Jim Cleve led the dazed Kells toward the door into Joan's cabin. For Joan just then all seemed to be dark.

When she recovered she was lying on the bed and Jim was bending over her. He looked frantic with grief and desperation and fear.

“Jim! Jim!” she moaned, grasping his hands. He helped her to sit up. Then she saw Kells standing there. He looked abject, stupid, drunk. Yet evidently he had begun to comprehend the meaning of his deed.

“Kells,” began Cleve, in low, hoarse tones, as he stepped forward with a gun. “I'm going to kill you—and Joan—and myself!”

Kells stared at Cleve. “Go ahead. Kill me. And kill the girl, too. That'll be better for her now. But why kill yourself?”

“I love her. She's my wife!”

The deadness about Kells suddenly changed. Joan flung herself before him.

“Kells—listen,” she whispered in swift, broken passion. “Jim Cleve was—my sweetheart—back in Hoadley. We quarreled. I taunted him. I said he hadn't nerve enough—even to be bad. He left me—bitterly enraged. Next day I trailed him. I wanted to fetch him back.... You remember—how you met me with Robert—how you killed Roberts? And all the rest?... When Jim and I met out here—I was afraid to tell you. I tried to influence him. I succeeded—till we got to Alder Creek. There he went wild. I married him—hoping to steady him.... Then the day of the lynching—we were separated from you in the crowd. That night we hid—and next morning took the stage. Gulden and his gang held up the stage. They thought you had put us there. We fooled them, but we had to come on—here to Cabin Gulch—hoping to tell—that you'd let us go.... And now—now—”

Joan had not strength to go on. The thought of Gulden made her faint.

“It's true, Kells,” added Cleve, passionately, as he faced the incredulous bandit. “I swear it. Why, you ought to see now!”

“My God, boy, I DO see!” gasped Kells. That dark, sodden thickness of comprehension and feeling, indicative of the hold of drink, passed away swiftly. The shock had sobered him.

Instantly Joan saw it—saw in him the return of the other and better Kells, how stricken with remorse. She slipped to her knees and clasped her arms around him. He tried to break her hold, but she held on.

“Get up!” he ordered, violently. “Jim, pull her away!... Girl, don't do that in front of me... I've just gambled away—”

“Her life, Kells, only that, I swear,” cried Cleve.

“Kells, listen,” began Joan, pleadingly. “You will not let that—that CANNIBAL have me?”

“No, by God!” replied Kells, thickly. “I was drunk—crazy.... Forgive me, girl! You see—how did I know—what was coming?... Oh, the whole thing is hellish!”

“You loved me once,” whispered Joan, softly. “Do you love me still?... Kells, can't you see? It's not too late to save my life—and YOUR soul!... Can't you see? You have been bad. But if you save me now—from Gulden—save me for this boy I've almost ruined—you—you.... God will forgive you!... Take us away—go with us—and never come back to the border.”

“Maybe I can save you,” he muttered, as if to himself. He appeared to want to think, but to be bothered by the clinging arms around him. Joan felt a ripple go over his body and he seemed to heighten, and the touch of his hands thrilled.

Then, white and appealing, Cleve added his importunity.

“Kells, I saved your life once. You said you'd remember it some day. Now—now!... For God's sake don't make me shoot her!”

Joan rose from her knees, but she still clasped Kells. She seemed to feel the mounting of his spirit, to understand how in this moment he was rising out of the depths. How strangely glad she was for him!

“Joan, once you showed me what the love of a good woman really was. I've never seen the same since then. I've grown better in one way—worse in all others.... I let down. I was no man for the border. Always that haunted me. Believe me, won't you—despite all?”

Joan felt the yearning in him for what he dared not ask. She read his mind. She knew he meant, somehow, to atone for his wrong.

“I'll show you again,” she whispered. “I'll tell you more. If I'd never loved Jim Cleve—if I'd met you, I'd have loved you.... And, bandit or not, I'd have gone with you to the end of the world!”

“Joan!” The name was almost a sob of joy and pain. Sight of his face then blinded Joan with her tears. But when he caught her to him, in a violence that was a terrible renunciation, she gave her embrace, her arms, her lips without the vestige of a lie, with all of womanliness and sweetness and love and passion. He let her go and turned away, and in that instant Joan had a final divination that this strange man could rise once to heights as supreme as the depths of his soul were dark. She dashed away her tears and wiped the dimness from her eyes. Hope resurged. Something strong and sweet gave her strength.

When Kells wheeled he was the Kells of her earlier experience—cool, easy, deadly, with the smile almost amiable, and the strange, pale eyes. Only the white radiance of him was different. He did not look at her.

“Jim, will you do exactly what I tell you?”

“Yes, I promise,” replied Jim.

“How many guns have you?”

“Two.”

“Give me one of them.”