Kindred of the Dust

by Peter B. Kyne

  XIV

  True to his promise, Daniel P. O'Leary declined to die that night.

  "Confound your belligerent soul!" the doctor growled at dawn. "Ibelieve you're too mean to die."

  "We'll make it a finish fight," whispered Daniel.

  "I'll go you," the doctor answered, and sent for digitalis and saltsolution.

  There was one other soul in Port Agnew who did not sleep that night,either. Andrew Daney's soul, shaken by what was to him a cosmiccataclysm, caused that good man to rise at five o'clock and go down tothe hospital for another look at Dirty Dan. To his anxious queries thedoctor shook a dubious head, but the indomitable O'Leary smiled wanly.

  "Go on wit' ye!" he wheezed faintly. "I'll win be a hair-linedecision."

  At seven o'clock, when the telegraph-station opened, Andrew Daney waswaiting at the door. He entered and sent a telegram to The Laird.

  Return immediately.

  In the late afternoon, Hector McKaye returned to Port Agnew and atonce sought Daney, who related to him exactly what had occurred. Theshadow of profound worry settled over The Laird's face.

  "Dan refuses to disclose anything regarding Donald's movements,"Daney continued, "where he followed the boy or where the fight tookplace. I only know that Donald was not present; Dan, fortunately,overheard the plot, inculcated, by some means, the idea in thosescoundrels' heads that he was Donald, and took the fight off the boy'shands. He claimed he fought a winning fight, and he is right. Themulatto died in Darrow this morning. One of the Greeks has a smashedshoulder, and the other a broken arm and four broken ribs. How theyever got home to Darrow is a mystery."

  "The third Greek must have waited near the river-mouth with a boat,Andrew. Have you any idea where Donald spent the evening?"

  "Yes, sir; but he's free, white, and twenty-one, and he's my superior.I prefer not to discuss his movements."

  "Andrew, I command you to."

  "I refuse to be commanded, sir."

  "That's all I wanted to know. He visited the Brents, and you know it."He saw by the flush on Daney's old face that he had hit the mark."Well, I'm obliged to you, Andrew. You've done your full duty; sowe'll not discuss the matter further. The situation will develop intime, and, meanwhile, I'll not spy on my boy. I wonder if that Darrowgang will talk."

  "I imagine not, sir--that is, if Dirty Dan keeps his own counsel. Theywill fear prosecution if Dan dies; so they will be silent awaiting theoutcome of his injuries. If he lives, they will still remain silent,awaiting his next move. Dan will probably admit having been jumped inthe dark by three unknown men and that he defended himself vigorously;he can fail to identify the Greeks, and the Greeks cannot do lessthan fail to identify Dirty Dan, who can plead self-defense if thecoroner's jury delves too deeply into the mulatto's death. I imaginethey will not. At any rate, it's up to Dan whether Donald figures inthe case or not, and Dan will die before he'll betray the confidence."

  "That's comforting," The Laird replied. "Will you be good enough todrive me home to The Dreamerie, Andrew?"

  At The Dreamerie, old Hector discovered that his son had left thehouse early in the afternoon, saying he would not be home for dinner.So The Laird sat him down and smoked and gazed out across the Bight ofTyee until sunset, when, a vague curiosity possessing him, he lookeddown to the Sawdust Pile and observed that the flag still flew fromthe cupola. The night shadows gathered, but still the flag did notcome down; and presently round The Laird's grim mouth a littleprescient smile appeared, with something of pain in it.

  "Dining out at Brent's," he soliloquized, "and they're so taken upwith each other they've forgotten the flag. I do not remember that theBrent girl ever forgot it before. She loves him."