CHAPTER XIII
CONCEALMENT
The eyes of San Juan were upon Caleb Patten throughout the night andduring the long hours of the following day. Under them his inflatedego grew further distended while, waxing more technical than ever, heexplained how a man in Rod Norton's condition could live and yet lielike a man dead. So prolific and involved were his medical phrasesthat men like John Engle and Struve began to ask themselves if Pattenunderstood his case. When, after twelve hours, the wounded man awoketo a troubled consciousness Patten's relief was scarcely less visiblethan that of Norton's friends. Patten felt his prestige taking untoitself new wings and immediately grew more wisely verbose than ever.It was a rare privilege to have the most talked of and generally likedman of the community under his hands; it was wine to Patten's soul tohave that man show signs of recovering under his skill.
So he drove well-wishers from the room, drew the shades, commandedquiet and came and went eternally, doing nothing whatever and appearingto be fighting, sleeves rolled up, for a threatened life. Long beforenoon there were those who had laughed at Patten before, but who nowaccused themselves of having failed to do him justice.
Virginia Page had remained all night with her patient in Las Estrellas.The first rumor she had of the fight in the Casa Blanca was borne toher ears by Ignacio's bell as she rode back toward San Juan. Only afew hours ago she had talked with Galloway, watching him banter withFlorrie Engle; but a little before that, earlier in the same day, shehad seen Rod Norton. Before she galloped up to the old Mission gardenher heart was beating excitedly, and she was asking herself, a littlefearfully: "Is it Galloway or is it Rod Norton?" For she was so surethat in the end Ignacio would ring the Captain for one of them.
Ignacio told her the story. Norton was lying in the hotel,unconscious, Patten working over him; Jim Galloway and Antone were inthe little jail and soon would be taken to the county-seat; Kid Rickardwas shot through the lung but would live, Patten said; Vidal Nunez,over whom the whole thing had started, was dead.
"If _mi amigo_ Roderico die," mumbled Ignacio, "it will be twoNortones, two sheriffs, that die because of Galloway. If Rodericolive, then the next time he will kill Galloway. You will see,_senorita_."
She made no answer as she rode slowly down the street. She wasthinking how, only a few weeks ago, she had heard the bells ring forthe first time, how then Galloway and Norton had been but meaninglessnames to her, how she had been little moved by either the sound ofpistol-shots or the Captain's heavy tolling. Now things weredifferent. Just in what were they "different" and to what degree? Shecould not answer her own question before she was at the hotel.
Struve came immediately, noted her pale face, attributed it to asleepless night, and made her take a cup of coffee. He rounded out theinformation she already had from Ignacio. Norton was still unconsciousthough, only a few minutes ago, Patten had reported signs ofimprovement. Mrs. Engle had been with him, was still there actingnurse; he was being given every attention possible.
Patten himself entered, drawn by the aroma of coffee. He noddedcarelessly to the girl and remarked to Struve, with a flash of triumphin his eyes, that at last he had "brought him around." Norton was veryweak, sick, dizzy, perhaps not yet out of danger. But Patten had wonin the initial skirmish with old man Death.
At least, so Struve was given to feel. Virginia, with a quick look atPatten's complacent face, was moved with sudden, almost insistentlonging, that Rod Norton's life might be given into her own handsrather than remain in the pudgy hands of a man she at once disliked asan individual and failed to admire as a physician. For she had neededno long residence in San Juan to form her own estimate of the man'sability . . . or lack of ability. But plainly this was Patten's case,not hers; she got up from the table and went into her own room.
Elmer she found lying fully dressed upon a couch in her office,sleeping heavily. She stood over him a moment, her eyes tender; he wasstill, would always be, her baby brother. Then she went to her ownroom and threw herself down upon her bed, worn out, anxious, vaguelyfearful for the future.
It was a long day for San Juan. Mrs. Engle came now and then toVirginia's room to wipe her eyes and force a hopeful smile; Florrie ranin like a young tempest to weep copiously and hyperbolically investpoor dear Roddy with all imaginable heroic attributes; Engle and Struveand Tom Cutter were grave-eyed and distressed. Every hour Ignacio cameto the hotel to ask quietly for news.
In his own way, it appeared that Elmer Page was as deeply concerned asany one. It was long before he told Virginia that he had been in theCasa Blanca when the shooting occurred; haltingly he gave her hisversion of it.
"Don't you think, Elmer," suggested the girl somewhat wearily, "thatyou have gotten hold of the wrong end of things here? I mean inchoosing your friends? Certainly after this you will have nothing todo with men like Galloway and Rickard?"
Ten minutes' talk with Elmer gave her a deeper understanding of hisattitude than she had been able to guess until now. Spontaneously hehad leaned toward Kid Rickard because the Kid was a "killer" and Elmerwas a boy; in other words, because young Page's imagination made ofRickard a truly picturesque figure. Since Rickard admired Jim Gallowayas he had never known how to admire aught else that breathed andwalked, Elmer's eyes had from the first rested approvingly upon themassive figure of Casa Blanca's owner. That both Galloway and Rickardwere fighting against persecution, were merely individuals wronged bythe law and too fearlessly independent to submit to the high hand ofsheriff or judge, was easily implanted in the boy's mind. Yesterdayhis fancies were ready to make heroes of Galloway and his crowd, tomake of Norton a meddler hiding behind the bulwark of his office, andhounding those who were too manly to step aside for him. But now Elmerwas all at sea, no land in sight.
"A gun in each hand, Sis," he cried warmly, his cheeks flushed, as thealmost constantly recurring picture formed again in his memory. "Andif you could have only seen his eyes! Talk about hiding behindanything . . . no sir! And him only one against Galloway and the Kidand Nunez and a whole room full."
Here was Elmer's trouble drawn to the surface; he was touched withleaping admiration for the man who lay now in the darkened room, hecouldn't admire both Norton, the sheriff, and Galloway and Rickard, thesheriff's sworn enemies! Which way should Elmer Page turn? Virginiavery wisely held her tongue.
Tom Cutter, having conferred with Engle and Struve, left San Juan inthe early afternoon, convoying his prisoners to the greater security ofthe county jail. It seemed the wisest step, the one which Norton wouldhave taken. Besides, Galloway insisted upon it and upon being allowedto send a message to his lawyer.
"I am willing to stand trial," said Galloway indifferently. "I'llarrange for bail to-morrow and be back to-morrow night."
The question which Tom Cutter, Struve, and Engle all asked ofthemselves and of each other, "Did Moraga get his chance to talk withGalloway?" went unanswered. There was nothing to do but wait upon thefuture to know that, unless Moraga, now on his way back to SheriffRoberts, could be made to talk. And Moraga was not given to garrulity.
Meantime Patten brought hourly reports of Norton. He was still indanger, to be sure; but he was doing as well as could be expected. Noone must go into the room except Mrs. Engle as nurse. Norton was fullyconscious, but forbidden to talk; he recognized those about him, hiseyes were clear, his temperature satisfactory, his strength no longerwaning. He had partaken of a bit of nourishment and to-morrow, ifthere were no unlooked-for complications, would be able to speak withJohn Engle for whom he had asked.
During the days which followed, days in which Rod Norton lay quiet in adarkened room, Virginia Page was conscious of having awakened some formof interest in Caleb Patten. His eyes followed her when she came andwent, and, when she surprised them, were withdrawn swiftly, but notbefore she had seen in them a speculative thoughtfulness. While shenoted this she gave it little thought, so occupied was her mind withother matters. She had postponed, as long as she could, a
talk withJulius Struve, her spirit galled that she must in the end go to him"like a beggar," as she expressed it to herself. But one day, her headerect, she followed the hotel keeper into his office. In the hallwayshe encountered Patten.
"May I have a word with you?" Patten asked.
But Virginia had steeled herself to the interview with Struve and wouldno longer set it aside, even for a moment.
"If you care to wait on the veranda," she told Patten, "I'll be out ina minute. I want to see Mr. Struve now."
Patten stood aside and watched her pass, the shrewdly questioning lookin his eyes. When she disappeared in the office he remained where shehad left him, listening. When she began to speak with Struve, hervoice rapid and hinting at nervousness, he came a quiet step nearer thedoor she had closed after her.
"I am ashamed of myself, Mr. Struve," said Virginia, coming straight tothe point. "I owe you already for a month's board and room rent formyself and Elmer. I . . ."
"That's perfectly all right, Miss Virginia," said Struve hurriedly. "Iknow the sort of job you've got on your hands making collections. Ifyou can wait I am willing to do so. Glad to do so, in fact."
Patten, fingering his little mustache, then letting his thick fingersdrop to the diamond in his tie, smiled with satisfaction. Smiling, hetiptoed down the hall and went out upon the veranda where he smoked hiscigar serenely. When Virginia came out to him her face was flaming.Had he not beard Struve's words, he would have thought that his answerto her apology had been an angry demand for immediate payment. Pattenfailed to understand how the girl's fine, independent nature writhed ina situation all but intolerable. That she appreciated gratefullyStruve's quick kindness did not minimize her own mortification.
Patten watched her seat herself; then he launched himself into hissubject. Virginia listened at first with faint interest, then withquickened wonder. For the life of her she could not tell if the littleman were seeking to flatter or insult her.
"I have leased an old, deserted ranch-house just on the edge of town,"he told her. "Got it for a song, too. Some first-rate land goes withit; I'll probably buy the whole thing before long. There's plenty ofgood water. Now, what am I up to, eh? Just the same thing all thetime, if you want to know. And that means making money."
Leaning forward he knocked the ash from his cigar and brought himselfconfidentially nearer.
"An open-air sanatorium," he announced triumphantly. "For tuberculosispatients. There are lots of them," and he waved his arm in a wide halfcircle, "coming out of the East on the run, scared to death, and withmore or less money in their pockets. It's a big proposition, a suremoney-getter."
He grew more animated than she had ever dreamed he could be, as hesketched his plans. While she was wondering why he had come to herwith them he gave his explanation, made her his double offer. Then itwas that she was puzzled to know whether he meant to compliment her ormerely to insult her.
In a word he assured her from the heights of superiority to which hehad ascended these last few days of importance, the practice ofmedicine was no woman's work at best; certainly not in a land likethis, where a man's endurance, breadth or mind, and keener innateability to cope with big situations were indicated. No work for a slipof a girl like Virginia Page. Of that Caleb Patten assured herunhesitatingly. But there was work for such as her and in a placewhich he would create for her. Fairly bewildered at his audacity shefound herself listening to his suggestion that she marry Caleb Pattenand become a sort of head nurse in an institution which he would found!
In spite of her she was moved to sudden, impulsive laughter. She hadnot meant to laugh at the man who might be sincere, who, it waspossible, was merely a fool. But laugh she did, so that her mirthreached Rod Norton where he lay upon his bed and made him stirrestlessly.
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Patten, a flush in his cheeks.
"I mean," stammered Virginia at last, "that I thank you very much, Dr.Patten, but that I can avail myself of neither the opportunity of beingyour wife or your head nurse. As for my inability to do for myselfwhat I have set out to accomplish . . . well, I am not afraid yet.There is work to be done here and I don't quite agree with you thatit's all man's work. There's always a little left over for a woman,you know," she added brightly.
But Patten was obviously angered. He flung to his feet and glared downat her. Perhaps it had not entered his thought that she could makeother than the answer he wanted; it had been very clear to him that hewas offering to become responsible for one who was embarked upon avoyage already destined to failure, that he would support her, merelydoing as many other men of his ilk did and make her work for all thatshe got.
"It's silly nonsense, your thinking you can make a living here," hesaid irritably. "I'm already established, I'm a man, I can have all ofthe cases I want, you'll get only a few breeds who haven't a dollar tothe dozen of them. If you are already broke and can't even pay foryour room and board . . ."
"Who told you that?" she asked quickly.
"I can hear, can't I?" he demanded coarsely. "Didn't you go just nowto beg Struve to hold you over? And . . ."
She slipped out of her chair and stood a moment staring coldly andcontemptuously at him. Then she was gone, leaving Patten watching herdeparture incredulously.
"A man who hasn't any more sense than Caleb Patten," she cried withinherself, "has no business with a physician's license. It's a sheerwonder he didn't kill Roderick Norton!"
Already she had forgotten her words with Struve, or rather the matterfor the present was shoved aside in her mind by another. She had comehere to make good, she had her fight before her, and she was going tomake good. She had to . . . for herself, for her own pride, forElmer's sake. She went straight to Elmer and made him sit down andlisten while she sketched actual conditions briefly and emphatically.
He was old enough to do something for himself in the world, continuedidleness did him no earthly good and might do him no end of harmmorally, mentally, and physically. He had been her baby brother longenough; it was time that he became a man. She had supported him untilnow, asking nothing of him in return save that he kept out of mischiefa certain percentage of the time. Now he was going to work and helpout. He could go to John Engle and get something to do upon one ofEngle's ranches.
Somewhat to her surprise Elmer responded eagerly. He had been thinkingthe matter over and it appealed to him. What he did not tell her wasthat he had seen some of the vaqueros riding in from one of theoutlying ranges, lean, brown, quick-eyed men who bestrode high-headedmounts and who wore spurs, wide hats, shaggy chaps, and who, perhaps,carried revolvers hidden away in their hip pockets, men who drankfreely, spent their money as freely at dice and cards, and who, all inall, were a picturesque crowd. Elmer took up his hat and went down tothe bank and had a talk with John Engle. Virginia's eyes followed himhopefully.
That day Norton was allowed for the first time to receive callers. Hehad his talk with Engle, limited to five minutes by Patten who hungabout curiously until Norton said pointedly that he wanted to speakprivately with the banker. Later Florrie came with her mother,bringing an immense armful of roses culled by her own hands, excited,earnest, entering the shaded room like a frightened child, speakingonly in hushed whispers.
"Won't you come in too for a moment, Virginia?" asked Mrs. Engle."Roddy will be glad to see you; he has asked about you."
But Virginia made an excuse; it was Patten's case and after what hadoccurred between herself and Patten she had no intention of so much asseeming to overstep the professional lines. The following day,however, she did go to see him. Patten himself, stiff and boorish,asked her to. His patient had asked for her several times, knowingthat she was in the building and marking how she made an exception andrefused to look in on him while all of his other friends were doing so,some of them coming many miles. Patten told her that Norton was notwell by any means yet and that he did not intend to have him worried upover an imagined slight. So Virginia di
d as she was bid.
Mrs. Engle was in the room, bending over the bed with a dampened towelto lay upon Norton's forehead; he showed a sign of fever and his headached constantly. He looked about quickly as the girl came in, hishand stirring a little, offering itself. She took it by way ofgreeting and sat down in the chair drawn up at his side.
"It's good of you to come!" he said quickly, his eyes brightening. "Iwas beginning to wonder if I had offended you in some way? You see,everybody has run in but you. A man gets spoiled when he's laid uplike this, doesn't he? Especially when it's the first time he canremember when he has stuck in bed for upward of twenty-four hoursrunning."
Despite her familiarity with the swift ravages of illness she receiveda positive shock as she looked at him; she had visualized him duringthese latter days as she had last seen him, brown, vitally robust, theembodiment of lean, clean strength. Now sunless inaction had set itsmark in his skin which had already grown sallow; his eyes burned intoher own, his hand fell weakly to the coverlet as she removed her own,his fingers plucking nervously. And yet she summoned a cheerful smileto answer his.
"I was satisfied just in hearing that you were doing well," she said."And I know that the fewer people a sick man sees the better for him."
He moved his head restlessly back and forth on his pillow.
"Not for a man like me," he told her. "I'm not used to this sort ofbusiness. Just lying here with my eyes shut or staring at the ceiling,which is worse, drives a man mad. I told Patten to-day that if hedidn't let me see folks I'd get up and go out if I had to crawl."
Virginia laughed, determined to be cheerful.
"I am afraid that you make a rather troublesome patient, don't you?"she asked lightly.
Norton made no answer but lay motionless save for the constant pluckingat his coverlet, his eyes moodily fixed upon the wall. Mrs. Engle,finding the water-pitcher empty and saying that she would be back intwo seconds, went out to fill it. Promptly Norton's eyes returned toVirginia's face, resting there steadily.
"I've been dizzy and sick and half out of my head a whole lot," he saidabruptly. "I've been thinking of you most of the time, dreaming aboutyou, climbing cliffs with you. . . ."
He broke off suddenly, but did not remove his eyes from hers. It wasshe who turned away, pretending to find it necessary to adjust thewindow-curtain. It was impossible to sit quietly while he looked ather that way, his eyes all without warning filling with a look for anygirl to read a look of glowing admiration, almost a look of purelove-making. Norton sighed and again his head moved restlessly on hispillow.
"I've had time to think here of late," he said after a little. "Moretime to think than I've ever had before in my life. About everything;myself and Jim Galloway and you. . . . I have decided to send word tothe district attorney to let Galloway go," he added, again watchingher. "I am not going to appear against him and there's no case if Idon't."
"But . . ." she began, wondering.
"There are no buts about it. Suppose I can get him convicted, which Idoubt; he'd get a light sentence, would appeal, at most would be out ofthe way a couple of years or so. And then it would all be to do overagain. No; I want him out in the open, where he can go as far as hewants to go. And then . . ."
She saw how his body stiffened as he braced himself with his feetagainst the foot-board.
"We won't talk shop," she said gently. "It isn't good for you. Don'tthink about such things any more than you have to."
"I've got to think about something," he said impatiently. "Can I thinkabout you?"
"Why not?" she answered as lightly as she had spoken before.
"Maybe that isn't good for me either," he answered.
"Nonsense. It's always good for us to think about our friends."
His eyes wandered from hers, rested a moment upon the little table nearhis bedhead and came back to her, narrowing a little.
"Will you set a chair against that window-shade?" he asked. "The lightat the side hurts my eyes."
It was a natural request and she turned naturally to do what he asked.But, even with her back turned, she knew that he had reached outswiftly for something that lay on the table, that he had thrust it outof sight under his pillow.
Mrs. Engle returned and Virginia, staying another minute, said good-by.As she went out she glanced down at the table. In her room she askedherself what it was that he had snatched and hidden. It seemed astrange thing to do and the question perplexed her; while she attachedno importance to it, it was there like a pebble in one's shoe, refusingto be ignored.
That night, just as she was going to sleep, she knew. Out of a halfdoze she had visualized the table with its couple of bottles, awithering rose, a scrap of note-paper, a fountain pen. The pen . . .it was Patten's . . . had evidently leaked and had been wipedcarelessly upon the sheet of paper, left lying with the paper halfwrapped around it. She had noted carelessly a few scrawled words inPatten's slovenly hand. And she knew that it had been removed whileshe turned her back, removed by a hand which, in its haste, had slippedthe pen with it under the pillow.
She went to sleep incensed with herself that she gave the matteranother thought. But she kept asking herself what it was that Pattenhad written that Roderick Norton did not want her to read.
The Bells of San Juan Page 14
