The U. P. Trail by Zane Grey (historical books to read TXT) 📗

“Ancliffe, this girl is Allie Lee—daughter of Allison Lee—a big man of the U.P.R.... Something terribly wrong here.” And he whispered to Ancliffe.

Allie became aware of the Englishman’s scrutiny, doubtful, sad, yet kind and curious. Indeed these men had heard of her.

“Hough, you must be mistaken,” he said.

Allie felt a sudden rush of emotion. Her opportunity had come. “I am Allie Lee. My mother ran off with Durade—to California. He used her as a lure to draw men to his gambling-hells—as he uses me now... Two years ago we escaped—started east with a caravan. The Indians attacked us. I crawled under a rock—escaped the massacre. I—”

“Never mind all your story,” interrupted Hough. “We haven’t time for that. I believe you... You are held a close prisoner?”

“Oh yes—locked and barred. I never get out. I have been threatened so—that until now I feared to tell anyone. But Durade—he is going mad. I—I can bear it no longer.”

“Miss Lee, you shall not bear it,” declared Ancliffe. “We’ll take you out of here.”

“How?” queried Hough, shortly.

Ancliffe was for walking right out with her, but Hough shook his head.

“Listen,” began Allie, hurriedly. “He would kill me the instant I tried to escape. He loved my mother. He does not believe she is dead. He lives only to be revenged upon her... He has a desperate gang here. Fresno, Mull, Stitt, Black, Grist, Dayss, a greaser called Mex, and others—all the worst of bad men. You cannot get me out of here alive except by some trick.”

“How about bringing the troops?”

“Durade would kill me the first thing.”

“Could we steal you out at night?”

“I don’t see how. They are awake all night. I am barred in, watched ... Better work on Durade’s weakness. Gold! He’s mad for gold. When the fever’s on him he might gamble me away—or sell me for gold.”

Hough’s cold eyes shone like fire in ice. He opened his lips to speak—then quickly motioned Ancliffe back to the table. They had just seated themselves when the two gamblers returned, followed by Durade. He was rubbing his hands in satisfaction.

“What was the fuss about?” queried Hough, tipping the ashes off his cigar.

“Some drunks after money they had lost.”

“And got thrown out for their pains?” inquired Ancliffe.

“Yes. Mull and Fresno are out there now.”

The game was taken up again. Allie sensed a different note in it. The gambler Hough now faced her in his position at the table; and behind every card he played there seemed to be intense purpose and tremendous force. Ancliffe soon left the game. But he appeared fascinated where formerly he had been indifferent. Soon it developed that Hough, by his spirit and skill, was driving his opponents, inciting their passion for play, working upon their feelings. Durade seemed the weakest gambler, though he had the best luck. Good luck balanced his excited play. The two other gamblers pitted themselves against Hough.

The shadows of evening had begun to darken the room when Durade called for lights. A slim, sloe-eyed, pantherish-moving Mexican came in to execute the order. He wore a belt with a knife in it and looked like a brigand. When he had lighted the lamps he approached Durade and spoke in Spanish. Durade replied in the same tongue. Then the Mexican went out. One of the gamblers lost and arose from the table.

“Gentlemen, may I go out for more money and return to the game?” he asked.

“Certainly,” replied Hough.

Durade assented with bad grace.

The game went on and grew in interest. Probably the Mexican had reported the fact of its possibilities, or perhaps Durade had sent out word of some nature. For one by one his villainous lieutenants came in, stepping softly, gleaming-eyed.

“Durade, have you stopped play outside?” queried Hough.

“Supper-time. Not much going on,” replied Mull.

Hough watched this speaker with keen coolness.

“I did not address you,” he said.

Durade, catching the drift, came out of his absorption of play long enough to say that with a big game at hand he did not want to risk any interruption. He spoke frankly, but he did not look sincere.

Presently the second gambler announced that he would consider it a favor to be allowed to go out and borrow money. Then he left hurriedly. Durade and Hough played alone; and the luck seesawed from one to the other until both the other players returned. They did not come alone. Two more black-frocked, black-sombreroed, cold-faced individuals accompanied them.

“May we sit in?” they asked.

“With pleasure,” replied Hough.

Durade frowned and the glow left his face. Though the luck was still with him, it was evident that he did not favor added numbers. Yet the man’s sensitiveness to any change immediately manifested itself when he won the first large stake. His radiance returned and also his vanity.

Hough interrupted the game by striking the table with his hand. The sound seemed hard, metallic, yet his hand was empty. Any attentive observer would have become aware that Hough had a gun up his sleeve. But Durade did not catch the significance.

“I object to that man leaning over the table,” said Hough, and he pointed to the lounging Fresno.

“Thet so?” leered the ugly giant. He looked bold and vicious.

“Do not address me,” ordered Hough.

Fresno backed away silently from the cold-faced gambler.

“Don’t mind him, Hough,” protested Durade. “They’re all excited. Big stakes always work them up.”

“Send them out so we can play without annoyance.”

“No,” replied Durade, sharply. “They can watch the game.”

“Ancliffe,” called Hough, just as sharply, “fetch some of my friends to watch this game. Don’t forget Neale and Larry King.”

Allie, who was watching and listening with strained faculties, nearly fainted at the sudden mention of her lover Neale and her friend Larry. She went blind for a second; the room turned round and round; she thought her heart would burst with joy.

The Englishman hurried out.

Durade looked up with a passionate and wolfish swiftness.

“What do you mean?”

“I want some of my friends to watch the game,” replied Hough.

“But I don’t allow that red-headed cowboy gun-fighter to come into my place.”