CHAPTER X
AN EVIL NIGHT
Peter lumbered heavily away from the house. He had known the futilityof his request beforehand. Yet he had to make it even on the smallestchance. And now, more than ever, in spite of his disappointment, hesaw how imperative it was that some one should stand by to help anyone of these three. Old "saws" were not for him. The world-old adviceto the would-be interferer might be for those of less thought, lesstact. Besides, he had no intention of interfering. He only meant to"stand by." That was the key-note of his whole nature, his wholelife.
And the night had revealed so much to him. His horizon was bounded bystorm-clouds threatening unconscious lives. There they were banking,banking, low down, so as to be almost invisible, and he knew that theywere only waiting a favoring breeze to mount up into the heavens intoone vast black mass. And then the breaking of the storm. His calmbrain was for once feverishly at work. Those three must somehow beherded to shelter; and he wondered how. His first play had provedabortive, and now he wondered.
It was his intention to return to his hut for the night, and he stoodfor a moment contemplating the dark village. His busy thoughts decidedfor him that there was nothing further to be done to-night. He toldhimself that opportunity must be his guide in the riddle with whichhe was confronted. He must rush nothing, and he felt, somehow, thatthe opportunity would come. He turned his eyes in the direction of hishome, and as he was about to move off he became aware of a footstepcrossing the market-place toward him. He waited. The sound came fromthe direction of the saloon, and, as he gazed that way, he saw thelights in the building go out one by one. The person approaching wasone of the "boys" homeward bound.
He was half inclined to continue on his way and thus avoid theprobably drunken man, but something held him, and a moment later hewas glad when he saw the figure of Jim Thorpe loom up. As they cameinto view of each other Thorpe hesitated. Nor was it till herecognized the huge outline of Peter that he came close up.
"That you, Peter?" he said.
And Peter, listening, recognized that Jim was sober.
"Yes," he replied, "just going home."
"Me, too."
There was a brief pause after that, and both men were thinking of thesame thing. It was of the scene recently enacted at the saloon. Peterwas the one to break the silence, and he ignored that which was in histhoughts.
"Goin' to the ranch on foot, and by way of Eve's shack," he said inhis gently humorous fashion.
"Ye-es," responded Jim after a moment's thought. Then he added with aconscious laugh, "My 'plug' is back there at Rocket's tie-post,waiting, saddled." Then he went on, becoming suddenly earnest. "Peter,I'm going for good. That is, I'm going to quit McLagan's, and get out.You see, I just wanted to have a look at her shack--for the lasttime. I--I don't feel I can go without that. She won't see me,and----"
"Sort of final look round before you quit the--sinking ship, eh?"
The quiet seriousness of the big man's tone sounded keenly incisive inthe stillness of the dark night. Jim started, and hot blood mounted tohis head. He had been through so much that day that his nerves werestill on edge.
"What d'ye mean?" he demanded sharply. "Who's deserting a sinkingship--where's the sinking ship?"
Peter pointed back at Eve's home.
"There," he said.
But Jim shook his head.
"I've drunk a lot to-day. Maybe my head's not clear. Maybe----"
Peter's voice broke in.
"It doesn't need much clearness to understand, if you know all thefacts. I'm not going to tell all I've seen and heard to-day either.But I'm going to say a few words to you, Jim, because I know you andlike you, and because, in spite of a few cranks in your head, you're aman. Just now you're feeling reckless. Nothing much matters to you.You're telling yourself that there's no particular reason keepingstraight. You have no interest, and when the end comes you'll justshut out your lights and--well, there's nothing more to it. That's howyou're thinking."
"And what's my thoughts to do with quitting a sinking ship?" Jim askeda trifle impatiently. "I don't deny you're likely right. I confess Idon't see that there's much incentive to--well, to stick to a straightand narrow course. I'll certainly strike a gait of my own, and Idon't know that it'll be a slow one. It'll be honest though. It'll behonest as far as the laws of man go. As for the other laws, well,they're for my personal consideration as far as my life is concerned.But this sinking ship. I'd like to know."
"You love Eve?" Peter abruptly demanded.
"For G----'s sake, what are you driving at?"
"You love her?" Peter's demand would admit of no avoidance.
"Better than my life."
Jim's answer was deep down in his voice; his whole soul was in hisreply.
"Then don't quit McLagan's, boy," Peter went on earnestly. "Don't quitBarnriff. Jim, boy, you can't have her, but you can help her tohappiness by standing by. I'm going to stand by, too, for she's goingto need all the help we can both give her."
"But how can I 'stand by' with Will--her husband?"
"You must stand by _because_ he's her husband."
"God!"
"Jim, can't you try to forget things where he's concerned? Can't youtry to forget that shooting match and its result? Can't you? Thinkwell. Can't you, outwardly at least, make things up with him? It'llhelp to keep him right, and help toward her happiness. Jim, I ask youto do this for her sake, lad. I know what you don't know, and I can'ttell you. It's best I don't tell you. It would do worse than no good.You say you love her better than life. Well, boy, if Eve's to be madehappy we must help to keep Will right. He's got a devil in himsomewhere, and anything that goes awry with him sets that devilraging. Are you going to help Eve, Jim?"
It was some moments before any answer was forthcoming. It was the oldbattle going on of the man against himself. All that was human in Jimwas tearing him in one direction, while his better side--his love forEve--was pulling him in the opposite. He hated Will now. He had givenway in this direction completely. The man's final outrage at thesaloon had killed his last grain of feeling for him. And now he wascalled upon to--outwardly, at least--take up his old attitude towardhim, a course that would help Will to give the woman he had robbed himof the happiness which he himself was not allowed to bestow. Was everso outrageous a demand upon a man? He laughed bitterly, and aloud.
"No, no, Peter; it can't be done. I'm no saint. I'd hate to be asaint. Will can go hang--he can go to the devil! And I say thatbecause I love Eve better than all else in the world."
"And the first sacrifice for that love you refuse?"
"Yes. I refuse to give my friendship to Will."
"You love her, yet you will not help her to happiness?"
"She shall never lack for happiness through me."
Peter smiled in the darkness. A sigh of something like satisfactionescaped him. He knew that, in spite of the man's spoken refusal, hisappeal was not entirely unavailing.
"You won't leave McLagan's then?" he said.
"Not if Eve needs me."
"Then don't."
But Jim became suddenly impatient.
"For G----'s sake, man, can't you speak out?"
"For Eve's sake, I won't," was the quiet rejoinder.
"Then, Peter, I'm going right on to the ranch now. I'll remain. But,remember, I am no longer a friend of Will's--and never will be again.I'll never even pretend. But if I can help Eve you can call on me.And--I put no limit on the hand I play. So long."
"So long."
The One-Way Trail: A story of the cattle country Page 12
