The Rustlers of Pecos County

by Zane Grey

  Chapter 4

  STEELE BREAKS UP THE PARTY

  That night, I saw Steele at our meeting place, and we compared notes andpondered details of our problem.

  Steele had rented the stone house to be used as a jail. While theblacksmith was putting up a door and window calculated to withstand manyonslaughts, all the idlers and strangers in town went to see the sight.Manifestly it was an occasion for Linrock. When Steele let it be knownthat he wanted to hire a jailer and a guard this caustically humorouselement offered itself _en masse_. The men made a joke out of it.

  When Steele and I were about to separate I remembered a party that wasto be given by Miss Sampson, and I told him about it. He shook his headsadly, almost doubtfully.

  Was it possible that Sampson could be a deep eyed, cunning scoundrel,the true leader of the cattle rustlers, yet keep that beautiful andinnocent girl out on the frontier and let her give parties to sons anddaughters of a community he had robbed? To any but remorseless Rangersthe idea was incredible.

  Thursday evening came in spite of what the girls must have regarded asan interminably dragging day.

  It was easy to differentiate their attitudes toward this party. Sallywanted to look beautiful, to excell all the young ladies who were toattend, to attach to her train all the young men, and have them fightingto dance with her. Miss Sampson had an earnest desire to open herfather's house to the people of Linrock, to show that a daughter hadcome into his long cheerless home, to make the evening one of pleasureand entertainment.

  I happened to be present in the parlor, was carrying in some flowers forfinal decoration, when Miss Sampson learned that her father had justridden off with three horsemen whom Dick, who brought the news, had notrecognized.

  In her keen disappointment she scarcely heard Dick's concluding remarkabout the hurry of the colonel. My sharp ears, however, took this in andit was thought-provoking. Sampson was known to ride off at all hours,yet this incident seemed unusual.

  At eight o'clock the house and porch and patio were ablaze with lights.Every lantern and lamp on the place, together with all that could bebought and borrowed, had been brought into requisition.

  The cowboys arrived first, all dressed in their best, clean shaven, redfaced, bright eyed, eager for the fun to commence. Then the young peoplefrom town, and a good sprinkling of older people, came in a steadystream.

  Miss Sampson received them graciously, excused her father's absence, andbade them be at home.

  The music, or the discordance that went by that name, was furnished bytwo cowboys with banjos and an antediluvian gentleman with a fiddle.Nevertheless, it was music that could be danced to, and there was nolack of enthusiasm.

  I went from porch to parlor and thence to patio, watching and amused.The lights and the decorations of flowers, the bright dresses and theflashy scarfs of the cowboys furnished a gay enough scene to a man oflonesome and stern life like mine. During the dance there was a steady,continuous shuffling tramp of boots, and during the interval following asteady, low hum of merry talk and laughter.

  My wandering from place to place, apart from my usual carefulobservation, was an unobtrusive but, to me, a sneaking pursuit of SallyLangdon.

  She had on a white dress I had never seen with a low neck and shortsleeves, and she looked so sweet, so dainty, so altogether desirable,that I groaned a hundred times in my jealousy. Because, manifestly,Sally did not intend to run any risk of my not seeing her in her glory,no matter where my eyes looked.

  A couple of times in promenading I passed her on the arm of some proudcowboy or gallant young buck from town, and on these occasions shefavored her escort with a languishing glance that probably did as muchdamage to him as to me.

  Presently she caught me red-handed in my careless, sauntering pursuit ofher, and then, whether by intent or from indifference, she apparentlydeigned me no more notice. But, quick to feel a difference in her, Imarked that from that moment her gaiety gradually merged intocoquettishness, and soon into flirtation.

  Then, just to see how far she would go, perhaps desperately hoping shewould make me hate her, I followed her shamelessly from patio to parlor,porch to court, even to the waltz.

  To her credit, she always weakened when some young fellow got her in acorner and tried to push the flirting to extremes. Young Waters was theonly one lucky enough to kiss her, and there was more of strength in hisconquest of her than any decent fellow could be proud of.

  When George Wright sought Sally out there was added to my jealousy areal anxiety. I had brushed against Wright more than once that evening.He was not drunk, yet under the influence of liquor.

  Sally, however, evidently did not discover that, because, knowing herabhorrence of drink, I believed she would not have walked out with himhad she known. Anyway, I followed them, close in the shadow.

  Wright was unusually gay. I saw him put his arm around her withoutremonstrance. When the music recommenced they went back to the house.Wright danced with Sally, not ungracefully for a man who rode a horse asmuch as he. After the dance he waved aside Sally's many partners, not sogaily as would have been consistent with good feeling, and led her away.I followed. They ended up that walk at the extreme corner of the patio,where, under gaily colored lights, a little arbor had been made amongthe flowers and vines.

  Sally seemed to have lost something of her vivacity. They had not beenout of my sight for a moment before Sally cried out. It was a cry ofimpatience or remonstrance, rather than alarm, but I decided that itwould serve me an excuse.

  I dashed back, leaped to the door of the arbor, my hand on my gun.

  Wright was holding Sally. When he heard me he let her go. Then sheuttered a cry that was one of alarm. Her face blanched; her eyes grewstrained. One hand went to her breast. She thought I meant to killWright.

  "Excuse me," I burst out frankly, turning to Wright. I never saw ahyena, but he looked like one. "I heard a squeal. Thought a girl washurt, or something. Miss Sampson gave me orders to watch out foraccidents, fire, anything. So excuse me, Wright."

  As I stepped back, to my amazement, Sally, excusing herself to thescowling Wright, hurriedly joined me.

  "Oh, it's our dance, Russ!"

  She took my arm and we walked through the patio.

  "I'm afraid of him, Russ," she whispered. "You frightened me worsethough. You didn't mean to--to--"

  "I made a bluff. Saw he'd been drinking, so I kept near you."

  "You return good for evil," she replied, squeezing my arm. "Russ, let metell you--whenever anything frightens me since we got here I think ofyou. If you're only near I feel safe."

  We paused at the door leading into the big parlor. Couples were passing.Here I could scarcely distinguish the last words she said. She stoodbefore me, eyes downcast, face flushed, as sweet and pretty a lass asman could want to see, and with her hand she twisted round and round asilver button on my buckskin vest.

  "Dance with me, the rest of this," she said. "George shooed away mypartner. I'm glad for the chance. Dance with me, Russ--not gallantly ordutifully because I ask you, but because you _want_ to. Else not atall."

  There was a limit to my endurance. There would hardly be another eveninglike this, at least, for me, in that country. I capitulated with whatgrace I could express.

  We went into the parlor, and as we joined the dancers, despite all thatconfusion I heard her whisper: "I've been a little beast to you."

  That dance seemingly lasted only a moment--a moment while she was allairy grace, radiant, and alluring, floating close to me, with our handsclasped. Then it appeared the music had ceased, the couples were findingseats, and Sally and I were accosted by Miss Sampson.

  She said we made a graceful couple in the dance. And Sally said she didnot have to reach up a mile to me--I was not so awfully tall.

  And I, tongue-tied for once, said nothing.

  Wright had returned and was now standing, cigarette between lips, in thedoor leading out to the patio. At the same moment that I heard a heavytramp of boots, from
the porch side I saw Wright's face changeremarkably, expressing amaze, consternation, then fear.

  I wheeled in time to see Vaughn Steele bend his head to enter the dooron that side. The dancers fell back.

  At sight of him I was again the Ranger, his ally. Steele was pale, yetheated. He panted. He wore no hat. He had his coat turned up and withleft hand he held the lapels together.

  In a quick ensuing silence Miss Sampson rose, white as her dress. Theyoung women present stared in astonishment and their partners showedexcitement.

  "Miss Sampson, I came to search your house!" panted Steele, courteously,yet with authority.

  I disengaged myself from Sally, who was clinging to my hands, and Istepped forward out of the corner. Steele had been running. Why did hehold his coat like that? I sensed action, and the cold thrill animatedme.

  Miss Sampson's astonishment was succeeded by anger difficult to control.

  "In the absence of my father I am mistress here. I will not permit youto search my house."

  "Then I regret to say I must do so without your permission," he saidsternly.

  "Do not dare!" she flashed. She stood erect, her bosom swelling, hereyes magnificently black with passion. "How dare you intrude here? Haveyou not insulted us enough? To search my house to-night--to break up myparty--oh, it's worse than outrage! Why on earth do you want to searchhere? Ah, for the same reason you dragged a poor innocent man into myfather's court! Sir, I forbid you to take another step into this house."

  Steele's face was bloodless now, and I wondered if it had to do with herscathing scorn or something that he hid with his hand closing his coatthat way.

  "Miss Sampson, I don't need warrants to search houses," he said. "Butthis time I'll respect your command. It would be too bad to spoil yourparty. Let me add, perhaps you do me a little wrong. God knows I hopeso. I was shot by a rustler. He fled. I chased him here. He has takenrefuge here--in your father's house. He's hidden somewhere."

  Steele spread wide his coat lapels. He wore a light shirt, the color ofwhich in places was white. The rest was all a bloody mass from whichdark red drops fell to the floor.

  "Oh!" cried Miss Sampson.

  Scorn and passion vanished in the horror, the pity, of a woman whoimagined she saw a man mortally wounded. It was a hard sight for awoman's eyes, that crimson, heaving breast.

  "Surely I didn't see that," went on Steele, closing his coat. "You usedunforgettable words, Miss Sampson. From you they hurt. For I standalone. My fight is to make Linrock safer, cleaner, a better home forwomen and children. Some day you will remember what you said."

  How splendid he looked, how strong against odds. How simple a dignityfitted his words. Why, a woman far blinder than Diane Sampson could haveseen that here stood a man.

  Steele bowed, turned on his heel, and strode out to vanish in the dark.

  Then while she stood bewildered, still shocked, I elected to do somerapid thinking.

  How seriously was Steele injured? An instant's thought was enough totell me that if he had sustained any more than a flesh wound he wouldnot have chased his assailant, not with so much at stake in the future.

  Then I concerned myself with a cold grip of desire to get near therustler who had wounded Steele. As I started forward, however, MissSampson defeated me. Sally once more clung to my hands, and directly wewere surrounded by an excited circle.

  It took a moment or two to calm them.

  "Then there's a rustler--here--hiding?" repeated Miss Sampson.

  "Miss Sampson, I'll find him. I'll rout him out," I said.

  "Yes, yes, find him, Russ, but don't use violence," she replied. "Sendhim away--no, give him over to--"

  "Nothing of the kind," interrupted George Wright, loud-voiced. "Cousin,go on with your dance. I'll take a couple of cowboys. I'll findthis--this rustler, if there's one here. But I think it's only anotherbluff of Steele's."

  This from Wright angered me deeply, and I strode right for the door.

  "Where are you going?" he demanded.

  "I've Miss Sampson's orders. She wants me to find this hidden man. Shetrusts me not to allow any violence."

  "Didn't I say I'd see to that?" he snarled.

  "Wright, I don't care what you say," I retorted. "But I'm thinking youmight not want me to find this rustler."

  Wright turned black in the face. Verily, if he had worn a gun he wouldhave pulled it on me. As it was, Miss Sampson's interference probablyprevented more words, if no worse.

  "Don't quarrel," she said. "George, you go with Russ. Please hurry. I'llbe nervous till the rustler's found or you're sure there's not one."

  We started with several cowboys to ransack the house. We went throughthe rooms, searching, calling out, flashing our lanterns in dark places.

  It struck me forcibly that Wright did all the calling. He hurried, too,tried to keep in the lead. I wondered if he knew his voice would berecognized by the hiding man.

  Be that as it might, it was I who peered into a dark corner, and thenwith a cocked gun leveled I said: "Come out!"

  He came forth into the flare of lanterns, a tall, slim, dark-facedyouth, wearing dark sombrero, blouse and trousers. I collared him beforeany of the others could move, and I held the gun close enough to makehim shrink.

  But he did not impress me as being frightened just then; nevertheless,he had a clammy face, the pallid look of a man who had just gotten overa shock. He peered into my face, then into that of the cowboy next tome, then into Wright's and if ever in my life I beheld relief I saw itthen.

  That was all I needed to know, but I meant to find out more if I could.

  "Who're you?" I asked quietly.

  He gazed rather arrogantly down at me. It always irritated me to belooked down at that way.

  "Say, don't be gay with me or you'll get it good," I yelled, proddinghim in the side with the cocked gun. "Who are you? Quick!"

  "Bo Snecker," he said.

  "Any relation to Bill Snecker?"

  "His son."

  "What'd you hide here for?"

  He appeared to grow sullen.

  "Reckoned I'd be as safe in Sampson's as anywheres."

  "Ahuh! You're taking a long chance," I replied, and he never knew, orany of the others, just how long a chance that was.

  Sight of Steele's bloody breast remained with me, and I had somethingsinister to combat. This was no time for me to reveal myself or to showunusual feeling or interest for Steele.

  As Steele had abandoned his search, I had nothing to do now but let theothers decide what disposition was to be made of Snecker.

  "Wright, what'll you do with him?" I queried, as if uncertain, now thecapture was made. I let Snecker go and sheathed my weapon.

  That seemed a signal for him to come to life. I guessed he had not muchfancied the wide and somewhat variable sweep of that cocked gun.

  "I'll see to that," replied Wright gruffly, and he pushed Snecker infront of him into the hall. I followed them out into the court at theback of the house.

  As I had very little further curiosity I did not wait to see where theywent, but hurried back to relieve Miss Sampson and Sally.

  I found them as I had left them--Sally quiet, pale, Miss Sampson nervousand distressed. I soon calmed their fears of any further trouble orpossible disturbance. Miss Sampson then became curious and wanted toknow who the rustler was.

  "How strange he should come here," she said several times.

  "Probably he'd run this way or thought he had a better chance to hidewhere there was dancing and confusion," I replied glibly.

  I wondered how much longer I would find myself keen to shunt her mindfrom any channel leading to suspicion.

  "Would papa have arrested him?" she asked.

  "Colonel Sampson might have made it hot for him," I replied frankly,feeling that if what I said had a double meaning it still was no lie.

  "Oh, I forgot--the Ranger!" she exclaimed suddenly. "That awfulsight--the whole front of him bloody! Russ, how could he stand up undersuch a wound? D
o you think it'll kill him?"

  "That's hard to say. A man like Steele can stand a lot."

  "Russ, please go find him! See how it is with him!" she said, almostpleadingly.

  I started, glad of the chance and hurried down toward the town.

  There was a light in the little adobe house where he lived, andproceeding cautiously, so as to be sure no one saw me, I went close andwhistled low in a way he would recognize. Then he opened the door and Iwent in.

  "Hello, son!" he said. "You needn't have worried. Sling a blanket overthat window so no one can see in."

  He had his shirt off and had been in the act of bandaging a wound thatthe bullet had cut in his shoulder.

  "Let me tie that up," I said, taking the strips of linen. "Ahuh! Shotyou from behind, didn't he?"

  "How else, you locoed lady-charmer? It's a wonder I didn't have to tellyou that."

  "Tell me about it."

  Steele related a circumstance differing little from other attempts athis life, and concluded by saying that Snecker was a good runner if hewas not a good shot.

  I finished the bandaging and stood off, admiring Steele's magnificentshoulders. I noted, too, on the fine white skin more than one scar madeby bullets. I got an impression that his strength and vitality were likehis spirit--unconquerable!

  "So you knew it was Bill Snecker's son?" I asked when I had told himabout finding the rustler.

  "Sure. Jim Hoden pointed him out to me yesterday. Both the Sneckers arein town. From now on we're going to be busy, Russ."

  "It can't come too soon for me," I replied. "Shall I chuck my job? Comeout from behind these cowboy togs?"

  "Not yet. We need proof, Russ. We've got to be able to prove things.Hang on at the ranch yet awhile."

  "This Bo Snecker was scared stiff till he recognized Wright. Isn't thatproof?"

  "No, that's nothing. We've got to catch Sampson and Wright red-handed."

  "I don't like the idea of you trailing along alone," I protested."Remember what Neal told me. I'm to kick. It's time for me to hang roundwith a couple of guns. You'll never use one."

  "The hell I won't," he retorted, with a dark glance of passion. I wassurprised that my remark had angered him. "You fellows are all wrong. Iknow _when_ to throw a gun. You ought to remember that Rangers have abad name for wanting to shoot. And I'm afraid it's deserved."

  "Did you shoot at Snecker?" I queried.

  "I could have got him in the back. But that wouldn't do. I shot threetimes at his legs--tried to let him down. I'd have made him telleverything he knew, but he ran. He was too fast for me."

  "Shooting at his legs! No wonder he ran. He savvied your game all right.It's funny, Vaughn, how these rustlers and gunmen don't mind beingkilled. But to cripple them, rope them, jail them--that's hell to them!Well, I'm to go on, up at the ranch, falling further in love with thatsweet kid instead of coming out straight to face things with you?"

  Steele had to laugh, yet he was more thoughtful of my insistence.

  "Russ, you think you have patience, but you don't know what patience is.I won't be hurried on this job. But I'll tell you what: I'll hang undercover most of the time when you're not close to me. See? That can bemanaged. I'll watch for you when you come in town. We'll go in the sameplaces. And in case I get busy you can stand by and trail along afterme. That satisfy you?"

  "Fine!" I said, both delighted and relieved. "Well, I'll have to rustleback now to tell Miss Sampson you're all right."

  Steele had about finished pulling on a clean shirt, exercising care notto disarrange the bandages; and he stopped short to turn squarely andlook at me with hungry eyes.

  "Russ, did she--show sympathy?"

  "She was all broken up about it. Thought you were going to die."

  "Did she send you?"

  "Sure. And she said hurry," I replied.

  I was not a little gleeful over the apparent possibility of Steele beingin the same boat with me.

  "Do you think she would have cared if--if I had been shot up bad?"

  The great giant of a Ranger asked this like a boy, hesitatingly, withcolor in his face.

  "Care! Vaughn, you're as thickheaded as you say I'm locoed. DianeSampson has fallen in love with you! That's all. Love at first sight!She doesn't realize it. But I know."

  There he stood as if another bullet had struck him, this time straightthrough the heart. Perhaps one had--and I repented a little of myoverconfident declaration.

  Still, I would not go back on it. I believed it.

  "Russ, for God's sake! What a terrible thing to say!" he ejaculatedhoarsely.

  "No. It's not terrible to _say_ it--only the fact is terrible," I wenton. I may be wrong. But I swear I'm right. When you opened your coat,showed that bloody breast--well, I'll never forget her eyes.

  "She had been furious. She showed passion--hate. Then all in a secondsomething wonderful, beautiful broke through. Pity, fear, agonizedthought of your death! If that's not love, if--if she did not betraylove, then I never saw it. She thinks she hates you. But she loves you."

  "Get out of here," he ordered thickly.

  I went, not forgetting to peep out at the door and to listen a moment,then I hurried into the open, up toward the ranch.

  The stars were very big and bright, so calm, so cold, that it somehowhurt me to look at them. Not like men's lives, surely!

  What had fate done to Vaughn Steele and to me? I had a moment ofbitterness, an emotion rare with me.

  Most Rangers put love behind them when they entered the Service andseldom found it after that. But love had certainly met me on the way,and I now had confirmation of my fear that Vaughn was hard hit.

  Then the wildness, the adventurer in me stirred to the wonder of it all.It was in me to exult even in the face of fate. Steele and I, whilebalancing our lives on the hair-trigger of a gun, had certainly falleninto a tangled web of circumstances not calculated in the role ofRangers.

  I went back to the ranch with regret, remorse, sorrow knocking at myheart, but notwithstanding that, tingling alive to the devilishexcitement of the game.

  I knew not what it was that prompted me to sow the same seed in DianeSampson's breast that I had sown in Steele's; probably it was just apropensity for sheer mischief, probably a certainty of the truth and astrange foreshadowing of a coming event.

  If Diane Sampson loved, through her this event might be less tragic.Somehow love might save us all.

  That was the shadowy portent flitting in the dark maze of my mind.

  At the ranch dancing had been resumed. There might never have been anyinterruption of the gaiety. I found Miss Sampson on the lookout for meand she searched my face with eyes that silenced my one last qualm ofconscience.

  "Let's go out in the patio," I suggested. "I don't want any one to hearwhat I say."

  Outside in the starlight she looked white and very beautiful. I felt hertremble. Perhaps my gravity presaged the worst. So it did in oneway--poor Vaughn!

  "I went down to Steele's 'dobe, the little place where he lives." Ibegan, weighing my words. "He let me in--was surprised. He had been shothigh in the shoulder, not a dangerous wound. I bandaged it for him. Hewas grateful--said he had no friends."

  "Poor fellow! Oh, I'm glad it--it isn't bad," said Miss Sampson.Something glistened in her eyes.

  "He looked strange, sort of forlorn. I think your words--what you saidhurt him more than the bullet. I'm sure of that, Miss Sampson."

  "Oh, I saw that myself! I was furious. But I--I meant what I said."

  "You wronged Steele. I happen to know. I know his record along the RioGrande. It's scarcely my place, Miss Sampson, to tell you what you'llfind out for yourself, sooner or later."

  "What shall I find out?" she demanded.

  "I've said enough."

  "No. You mean my father and cousin George are misinformed or wrong aboutSteele? I've feared it this last hour. It was his look. That pierced me.Oh, I'd hate to be unjust. You say I wronged him, Russ? Then you takesides with him against my fath
er?"

  "Yes," I replied very low.

  She was keenly hurt and seemed, despite an effort, to shrink from me.

  "It's only natural you should fight for your father," I went on."Perhaps you don't understand. He has ruled here for long. He'sbeen--well, let's say, easy with the evil-doers. But times are changing.He opposed the Ranger idea, which is also natural, I suppose. Still,he's wrong about Steele, terribly wrong, and it means trouble."

  "Oh, I don't know what to believe!"

  "It might be well for you to think things out for yourself."

  "Russ, I feel as though I couldn't. I can't make head or tail of lifeout here. My father seems so strange. Though, of course, I've only seenhim twice a year since I was a little girl. He has two sides to him.When I come upon that strange side, the one I never knew, he's like aman I never saw.

  "I want to be a good and loving daughter. I want to help him fight hisbattles. But he doesn't--he doesn't _satisfy_ me. He's grown impatientand wants me to go back to Louisiana. That gives me a feeling ofmystery. Oh, it's _all_ mystery!"

  "True, you're right," I replied, my heart aching for her. "It's allmystery--and trouble for you, too. Perhaps you'd do well to go home."

  "Russ, you suggest I leave here--leave my father?" she asked.

  "I advise it. You struck a--a rather troublesome time. Later you mightreturn if--"

  "Never. I came to stay, and I'll stay," she declared, and there hertemper spoke.

  "Miss Sampson," I began again, after taking a long, deep breath, "Iought to tell you one thing more about Steele."

  "Well, go on."

  "Doesn't he strike you now as being the farthest removed from a ranting,brutal Ranger?"

  "I confess he was at least a gentleman."

  "Rangers don't allow anything to interfere with the discharge of theirduty. He was courteous after you defamed him. He respected your wish. Hedid not break up the dance.

  "This may not strike you particularly. But let me explain that Steelewas chasing an outlaw who had shot him. Under ordinary circumstances hewould have searched your house. He would have been like a lion. He wouldhave torn the place down around our ears to get that rustler.

  "But his action was so different from what I had expected, it amazed me.Just now, when I was with him, I learned, I guessed, what stayed hishand. I believe you ought to know."

  "Know what?" she asked. How starry and magnetic her eyes! A woman'sdivining intuition made them wonderful with swift-varying emotion.

  They drew me on to the fatal plunge. What was I doing to her--to Vaughn?Something bound my throat, making speech difficult.

  "He's fallen in love with you," I hurried on in a husky voice. "Love atfirst sight! Terrible! Hopeless! I saw it--felt it. I can't explain howI know, but I do know.

  "That's what stayed his hand here. And that's why I'm on his side. He'salone. He has a terrible task here without any handicaps. Every man isagainst him. If he fails, you might be the force that weakened him. Soyou ought to be kinder in your thought of him. Wait before you judge himfurther.

  "If he isn't killed, time will prove him noble instead of vile. If he iskilled, which is more than likely, you'll feel the happier for agenerous doubt in favor of the man who loved you."

  Like one stricken blind, she stood an instant; then, with her hands ather breast, she walked straight across the patio into the dark, opendoor of her room.