CHAPTER XXXIV
THE TRUTH
The moment Peter Blunt left the saloon, a lurking figure stole outfrom the shadow of one of the side walls, where it had been standingclose under a window, listening to all that passed within thebuilding. It followed on a few yards behind the preoccupied man with astealthy but clumsy gait. Peter heard nothing and saw nothing. Hismind and heart were too full to care in the least for anything thatwas going on about him now.
So it was that Elia, for it was he, laboriously followed him up untilhe saw the man's burly figure disappear into his hut. Then he turnedaway with something of relief, and hobbled in the direction of his ownhouse. He had been anxious lest Peter should be on his way to carrythe news to Eve. He had very definite reasons for wishing to give herthe news himself. He felt that Peter was too convinced of Jim'sinnocence, judging by his defense of him in the saloon, to be a safeperson to carry Eve the news. He was thinking of his own safety, andhis distorted mind was at work gauging Peter from his own standpoint.He felt he must avoid Peter for the present. Peter was too shrewd.Peter might--yes, he must certainly avoid him until after--dawn. Thenit would not matter.
Sick in body as well as in mind after the evening's events, the low,cruel cunning which possessed him was still hard at work scheming tofulfil both his vicious desires and to hedge himself round in safety.
This was the first time he had been near home since he had returnedfrom the bluff. He had painfully followed Jim into the village andshadowed him down to the saloon. He was in an extremity of terror thewhole time, from the moment he realized Jim's intention to notify thevillagers of what had happened until the end of the trial, when heheard the sentence passed. Then, curiously enough, his terror onlyabated the slightest degree.
But he was very sick, nearly dropping with fatigue and bodilysuffering. Something was wrong in his chest, and the pain of it wasexcruciating. There were moments when the shooting pains in his poorcurved spine set him almost shrieking. Will's blows had done theirwork on his weakly frame, and it felt to him to be all broken up.
When he reached his sister's gate, he stood for some moments leaningon it gasping for breath. His strength was well-nigh expended, leavinghim faint and dizzy. Slowly his breathing eased, and he glanced at thewindows. The lamps were still burning inside. Evidently Eve waswaiting for something. Had she heard? He wondered. Was she now waitingfor the verdict? Perhaps she was only waiting for his own return.
And while he considered a flash of the devil, that was always busywithin him, stirred once more. He had come to tell her of it all. Andthe thought pleased him. For the moment he forgot something of hisbodily sufferings in the joy of the thought of the pain he was aboutto inflict upon her. He groped his hand in his jacket pocket. Yes,they were all there, the knife and the handkerchief that had sopuzzled the doctor and those others.
He stealthily opened the gate and walked up the path. At the door hestood listening. Some one was stirring within. Hark! That sounded likeEve sobbing. Now she was speaking. Was she speaking to herself--or tosome one else? He listened acutely. He could only hear the murmur ofher voice. There was no other sound within.
Suddenly he drew back from the door. He heard her footstepsapproaching. Wondering what she was going to do he withdrew out ofsight. The door opened, and Eve stood leaning against the casing. Hecould only see her outline against the lamplight behind her, for herface was lost in the shadow. It seemed to him that she was staringout at the saloon. Maybe she was waiting till the lights were putout, and so she would know the trial was over. Maybe, even, shewas contemplating going down there in search of the news she was sofearfully awaiting. These suggestions occurred to Elia, for he hada tremendously shrewd knowledge of his sister, as he had of mostpeople with whom he came into contact.
It occurred to him now that it was time he showed himself. Thegrinding pains in his body would no longer be denied. He must getinside and rest.
"Sis," he called in a low voice. "Ho, sis!"
The woman started as the boy hobbled out into the light.
"Elia!" she cried. And the next moment she would have clasped him inher arms, and hugged him to her bosom. But he drew back. He fearedher embraces. Nor was he in the mood to submit to them.
"Don't be a fule, sis. I'm tired--dog tired. I'm sick, too. I believesomethin's broken inside me."
He pushed her on one side and hurried into the room.
"Come in an' shut that gol-durned door," he cried, without turning, ashe made his way to the rocking-chair. He dropped into it, his facecontorting hideously with the awful pain the process caused him.
But the spasm passed after a few moments, and when he looked up Evewas standing before him. He eyed her silently for some time. He waswondering just how much she knew.
There was little doubt in his mind that she knew a great deal. Horrorand suffering were so deeply lined upon her young face, and in herbeautiful eyes was such a wild, hunted look, that there was verylittle doubt in his mind that she knew what most of the village knewby this time. But she didn't know all he knew, not by a lot. And shewasn't going to know it all. Only some of it. She was suffering. Sowas he--in a different way. He would help her to suffer more yet. Itwas good to see other folks suffering.
"Who's bin here, sis?" he demanded.
"Only Annie. But, Elia, tell me you--you didn't meet Will?"
The boy chuckled without any visible sign. Even the pain of his bodycould not rob him of his cruel love of inflicting pain. He ignored herquestion for the moment.
"Annie?" he responded. "Did she tell you, sis? Did she tell you yourWill was dead? Eh?" He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling. "I'mglad--real glad. He was sure bad, an' no use to you. She told you?"
But suddenly the poor woman buried her face in her hands, as though toshut out the hideous thoughts his words brought back to her.
"Yes, yes," she cried, "I know he's dead, and they're trying Jim forit. Oh, God, it's awful! They say he did it. But he didn't, I know hedidn't. He only said he'd do it if Will had killed you. He didn't killyou, so Jim didn't do it. He wouldn't. He couldn't. And I sent him outthere to the bluff. And if they hang him it's my doing. Oh, Jim, Jim!"She fell to moaning and rocking herself as she stood. "But theymustn't kill him. They won't. Will they? Say they won't, Elia. Oh,Jim, Jim! I want you so badly. I--I----"
"You're sweet on him, sis?" Elia said, with a gleam of fiendishsatisfaction in his wonderful eyes.
"I sent him," reiterated the woman, ignoring his question, and lost inher own misery. "Oh, Jim, Jim!"
For a time at least the boy had quite forgotten his bodily sufferings.His enjoyment was monstrous, unholy.
"Say, sis," he went on, "the trial's over. I've just come fromthere."
Eve looked up, startled. Every nerve in her body was quivering with asudden tension.
"Yes, yes?" she cried.
"Yes, it's sure over," the boy added, prolonging his sister's agony.
"Well? They--they acquitted him?" There was something absolutelyimploring in her manner. It might well have moved a heart of stone.
But Elia's heart, if he possessed such an organ, bore the brand of thefiend. He nodded first. Then, as he saw the joy leap to his sister'seyes he shook his head vigorously, and the result pleased him.
"He's got to die," he said.
The woman suddenly reeled, and fell on her knees at the table, withher face buried on her outstretched arms. Elia watched her for somemoments. He felt that here was some recompense for what he had gonethrough.
"You was kind o' sweet on him, sis," he said presently. "That's why Itried to help him some. I kind o' like him, too. I feel sort o' queerJim's goin' to get hanged--hanged, sis, at dawn." He paused, butbeyond the racking sobs that shook the woman's frame she made nomovement. "I sure feel queer about it, tho'. Y'see he came right upwhen Will had nigh kicked the life out o' me, an' he hit Will a smashthat knocked him cold. Gee, it was a smash! Jim hurt Will bad, an' itwas for me. Say, that's why I feel queer they're goin' to--hang him atdawn
. Somehow, it don't seem good stretchin' Jim's neck. I don't seemto feel I'd like to see Jim hurted. Must be because he hurted Will ferme. Will 'ud 'a' killed me, sure, but fer Jim."
His words had become a sort of soliloquy. He had forgotten his sisterfor the moment. But now, as she looked up, he remembered.
"You tried to--to save him?" she demanded. "You told them what Willwas doing? You told them how--how it all happened?"
The boy shook his head, and again his eyes lit with malice.
"I ain't been inside the saloon. I--I was scared. Y'see Will wasn'tkilled by the blow Jim give him. Guess that on'y jest knocked him out.Y'see he was killed with Jim's knife--after. Y'see Jim's a fule. Afterhe'd hit him he fixed his face up with his han'k'chiefs, an' after hewas good an' dead he went fer to leave his knife stickin' in hischest. That's wher' I helped him some. I took that knife out--an' themrags. Here they are, right here."
He suddenly produced the blood-stained knife and the handkerchiefs,and held them out toward her. But the woman shrank away from them.
"I guessed if I took 'em right away no one 'ud know how he come by hisdeath, an' who did it. Y'see Jim had helped me some."
But Eve was not heeding the explanation.
"Then he did--kill him?" Her question was a low, horrified whisper.
"Ye--es."
"After he had--struck him senseless?"
"Ye--yes."
"I don't believe it. You are lying to me, Elia." The woman's voice wasstrident, even harsh.
Elia understood. It was her desire to convince herself of Jim'sinnocence that set her accusing him. It was not that she reallydisbelieved. Had it been otherwise he would have been afraid. As itwas he gloated over her suffering instead.
"Yes, he's a fule, an' he's sure got to hang," he said mildly. "Guessit'll be dawn come half an hour. Then they're goin' to take him rightout ther' wher' he killed your Will--an' hang him. Smallbones is goin'out to find the tree. Say, sis, Smallbones is goin' to get busypullin' the rope. I wish it wa'n't Jim, sure I do. I'd sooner it wasPeter, on'y he's goin' to give me that gold. Guess it wouldn't matterif----"
"They shan't hang him! I don't believe it. I can't believe it. I don'tbelieve you. Oh, God, this is awful! Elia, say it isn't so; say youare only----"
"Don't be a fule, sis," the boy cried, brutally. "Guess if you can'tb'lieve me go an' ast Peter. He's in his hut. He helped defend Jim,an' said a heap o' fule things 'bout gettin' the law on Doc. Ast himif you don't b'lieve me."
But whereas he had only intended to force her belief by his challenge,Eve took him literally. She snatched at his words, and he suddenlybecame afraid. She picked up the knife and the rags, which before shehad refused to touch, and grasped him by one wrist.
"Yes, yes, we'll go over to Peter, and I'll have the truth from him. Ican't trust you, Elia. You were there when Will was murdered; you'vebeen down to the saloon, outside it. You must have seen the killing,and you've not said one word in his defense, not one word as to thereason of Will's death. Jim did it in your defense, and you're lettinghim hang without a word to help him. You shall tell Peter what you'vetold me, and maybe it isn't too late to do something yet. Comealong."
But the boy tried to drag free. His guilty conscience made him fearPeter, and in a frenzy he struggled to release himself.
But Eve was no longer the gentle, indulgent woman he had always known.She was fighting for a life perhaps dearer to her than Elia's. She sawa barely possible chance that through Elia she might yet save Jim.Will's brutal attack upon a cripple had met with perhaps somethingmore than its deserts, but these men were men, and maybe theextenuation of the provocation might at least save Jim the rope.
Elia quickly gave up the struggle. His bodily hurts had robbed him ofwhat little physical strength he possessed at the best of times; andEve, for all her slightness, was by no means a weak woman. Sheliterally forced him to go, half dragging him, and never for a momentrelaxing her hold upon him.
And so they came to Peter's hut. She knocked loudly at the door, andcalled to him, fearing, because she saw no light, that the man hadgone out again. But Peter was there, and his astonished voice answeredher summons at once.
"Eve?" he cried, in something like consternation, for he was thinkingof the news he must now give her. Then he appeared in the doorway.
"Quick, light a lamp," the woman cried. "Elia has told me all aboutit. He says Jim is to die at--dawn." She glanced involuntarily at theeastern horizon, and to her horror beheld the first pale reflection ofmorning light, hovering, an almost milky lightening, where all elsewas still jet black.
Peter had no words with which to answer her. He had dreaded seeingher, and now--she knew. He lit the lamp, and Eve dragged the unwillingboy in with her; and as she passed him over to Peter's bed he fellback on it groaning.
"Peter," she cried now, speaking with a rush, since dawn was so near."Can't something be done? Surely, surely, there is extenuation! He didit all to defend Elia. Will was killing him out there at the bluff.Look at him! Can't you see his suffering? That's why Jim killed him.Elia's just told me so. He even took these things from--from the bodyafter--thinking it might save Jim. He brought them to me just now; andhe says he's been down at the saloon, and never said a word to helpJim. He said he was frightened to go in. Did Jim tell them it was tosave Elia? Oh, surely they can be made to understand it was notwilful--wilful murder! They can't hang him. It's--it's--horrible!"
But as the astonished Peter listened to her words, words which toldhim a side of the story he had never even dreamed of before, his eyesdrifted and fixed themselves on the now ghastly face of the boy. Hecompelled the terror-stricken eyes and held them with his own. Andwhen Eve ceased speaking he answered her without turning. He wasreading, reading through the insane mind of the boy, right down intohis very soul. In the long days he had had Elia working with him hehad studied him closely. And he had learned the twists and warps ofhis nature as no one else understood them.
"Jim said nothing at all!" Peter said slowly.
"Nothing? What do you mean? He--he must have told them of--of Elia?"
Suddenly Peter's eyes shot in the direction of the door. A faint,distant sound reached them. It was a sound of bustle from thedirection of the saloon. Eve heard too. They both understood.
"Oh, God!" she cried.
But Peter's eyes were on Elia's face once more. They were stern, and acurious light was in them.
"I seem to see it now," he said slowly. "Jim denied his guilt becausehe was innocent. But he admitted that the knife which killed Will washis, although no knife was found. He spoke the truth the whole time.He would not stoop to a lie, because he was innocent. Eve, that manwas shielding the real culprit. Do you know any one that Jim would belikely to give his life for? I do." Suddenly he swung round on Elia,and, with an arm outstretched, and a great finger pointing, he cried,"Why did you kill Will Henderson?"
Inspiration had come. A great light of hope shone in his eyes. Hisdemand was irresistible to the suffering, demented boy. Elia's eyesgleamed with a sudden cruel frenzy. There was the light of madness inthem, a vicious, furious madness in them. Hatred of Will surgedthrough his fevered brain, a furious triumph at the thought of havingpaid Will for all his cruelties to him swept away any guilty fears ashe blurted out his reply.
"Because I hate him. Because he's kicked me till I'm nigh dead.Because--I--I hate him."
It was a tremendous moment, and fraught with such possibilities as afew minutes ago would have seemed impossible. There was a silence ofhorror in the room. The shock had left Eve staggered. Peter wascalculating what seemed almost impossible chances. Elia--Elia was inthe agonies of realizing what he had done, and battling with anoverwhelming physical weakness.
The sounds of commotion at the saloon were more decided. There was theominous galloping of horses, and the rattle of the wheels of abuckboard. Peter glanced at the window. The sky outside waslightening. Suddenly he shivered.
"You killed him. How? How?" His voice was tense and harsh, though
hestrove to soften it.
But Elia had turned sullen. A fierce resentment held him silent,resentment and fear.
And in that moment of waiting for his answer Peter heard again themovements of the cavalcade at the saloon. It seemed to be under wayfor--the bluff.
Now he leaned toward the boy, and his great honest brow was sweatingwith apprehension.
"Elia," he said. "If I go and tell them they'll hang you, too. Do youunderstand? I'm not going to bluff you. This is just fact. They'llhang you if I tell them. And I'm going to tell them, sure, if youdon't do as I say. If you do as I say they won't touch you. You've gotto come along with me and tell them you killed Will, and just why.They're men, those fellers, and they'll be real sorry for you. You'vegot to tell the whole truth just as it happened, and I give you myword they won't touch you. You'll save Jim's life. Jim who was alwaysgood to you. Jim who went out to the bluff to save you from Will. Youneedn't to be scared," as signs of fresh terror broke out upon theboy's face, "you needn't to be scared any. I'll be there withyou----"
"And so will I," cried Eve, her eyes suddenly lighting with hope.
"Will you come, boy? You'll save Jim, who never did you anything butgood. Will you come?"
But there was no answer.
"Say, laddie," Peter went on, his eyes straining with fear, "they'removing now. Can you hear them? That's the men who're taking Jim out tokill him--and when they've killed him they'll kill you, because Ishall tell them 'bout you. Will you help us save Jim--Jim who wasalways good to you, or will you let them kill him--an' then you?Hark, they're crossing toward us now. Soon, and they'll be gone, andthen it'll be too late. They'll then have to come back for you,and--you won't be able to get that gold I promised you."
Eve sat breathlessly watching. Peter's steady persistence wassomething to marvel at. She wanted to shriek out and seize thesuffering cripple, and shake what little life there yet remained outof him. The suspense was dreadful. She looked for a sign of thelightening of that cloud of horror and suffering on the boy's face.She looked for that sign of yielding they both hoped and prayed for.
But Peter went on, and it seemed to the woman he must win out.
"Come, speak up, laddie," he said gently. "Play the man. They shan'thurt you, I swear it. Ther's all that gold waiting. You've seen it onthe reef in the cutting, right here in Barnriff. It's yours whenyou've done this thing, but you won't be here to get it if you don't.Will you come?"
"They won't--won't hang me?" the boy whispered, in dreadful fear.
The death party were quite near now. Peter heard them. He felt thatthey were nearly across the market-place. He glanced out of thewindow. Yes, there they were. Jim was sitting in the buckboard besideDoc Crombie. The rest of the crowd were in the saddle.
"I swear it, laddie," he cried in a fear.
"An'--an'--you got that gold?" The boy's face was suddenly contortedwith fierce bodily pain.
"Yes, yes, and it's yours when we come back."
Another glance showed the hanging party on the outskirts of thevillage. They were passing slowly. Peter knew they would travel fasterwhen the last house was passed. Eve saw them, too, and her handswrithed in silent agony as they clasped each other in her lap. Sheturned again to stare helplessly at Elia. She must leave him to Peter.Instinctively she knew that one word from her might spoil all.
"Wher' are they now?" asked the boy, his ghastly face cold as marbleafter his seizure of pain.
"They're gettin' out of the village. We'll be too late in a minute."
Then of a sudden the boy cried out. His voice was shrill with adesperate fear, but there was a note of determination in it.
"I'll tell 'em--I'll tell 'em. Come on, I ken walk. But it's only forJim, an'--an' I don't want that gold." And for the first time in herlife Eve saw the boy's eyes flood with tears, which promptly streameddown his ghastly cheeks.
Peter's eyes glowed. There was just time, he believed. But he wasthinking of the boy. At last--at last. It was for Jim Elia was doingit. For Jim, and not for the gold. He had delved and delved until atlast he had struck the real color, where the soil had long been givenup as barren.
"Come, laddie." He stepped up to the boy with a great kindness, and,stretching out his herculean arms, he lifted him bodily from the bed."You can't walk, you're too ill. I'll jest carry you."
And he bore him out of the house.
The One-Way Trail: A story of the cattle country Page 36
