The Trail Horde

by Charles Alden Seltzer

  CHAPTER VIII

  A WOMAN'S MERCY

  Gary Warden did not stand at the office window many minutes after he sawLawler on the street. He drew on his coat, took his hat from a hook, onthe wall and descended the stairs. At the street door he glanced swiftlyaround, saw Red King standing at the hitching rail in front of thebuilding, and several other horses farther up the street. There wereseveral men on the sidewalks, but he did not see Lawler.

  Grinning crookedly, Warden crossed the street and made his way to thestation building, where a few minutes later he was talking with Simmons.Simmons was visibly excited. There was curiosity in Warden's gaze.

  "He's wise," said Simmons. He was still wiping perspiration from hisforehead, and he mechanically repeated to Warden the words he haduttered to himself immediately after Lawler left his office: "I'm gladit's over. I've been dreadin' it. He's the only one in the whole bunchthat I was afraid of. There'll be hell to pay in this section,now--pure, unadulterated hell, an' no mistake!" And then he addedsomething that had occurred to him afterward: "If the big guys back ofthis thing knowed Kane Lawler as well as I know him, they'd have thoughta heap before they started this thing!"

  "Bah!" sneered Warden; "you're raving! We know what we are doing. Youdo as you're told--that's all. And keep your mouth shut. Just keep ontelling them there are no cars. That's the truth, isn't it?" He grinnedgleefully at Simmons.

  "So he's wise, eh?" he added. "Well, I'm damned glad of it--thesagebrush rummie! We'll make him hump before we get through with him!"

  Hatred of Lawler had seized Warden--a passion that ran through his veinswith the virulence of a strong poison. It had been the incident of thefluttering handkerchief that had aroused him. Until then he had merelydisliked Lawler, aware of the latent strength of him, his ruggedmanliness, and his quiet confidence. All those evidences of characterhad irritated him, for they had brought an inevitable contrast betweenhimself and the man, and he knew he lacked those things which would havemade him Lawler's equal. He felt inferior, and the malevolence thataccompanied the conviction was reflected in his face as he facedSimmons.

  "No cars, now--damn them! Not a single car! Understand, Simmons? Nocars--you can't get them! No matter what happens, you can't getcars--for anybody!"

  He left Simmons and descended to the street. As he passed the front ofthe Willets Hotel he saw Lawler and his friends inside; but Lawler hadhis back turned, and the others were interestedly watching him,gesturing and talking.

  Warden entered the front door of the Wolf. He stopped at the bar for adrink, and the barkeeper told him, in reply to his question, thatSingleton was in a rear room.

  Singleton was alone. He was sitting in a chair at a table, with a glassin front of him, and he was staring abstractedly at the floor whenWarden entered, closing the door behind him.

  Warden drew a chair up to the table and dropped into it. And then forthe first time he looked closely at Singleton's face and saw the gash onhis left cheek. The wound had been treated, but beneath the cloth at oneend Warden could see the open flesh.

  "What in blazes has happened to you?" inquired Warden.

  "Lawler," growled Singleton; "he walloped my kid down at theschoolhouse, an' when I went down there to take the kid's part, hewalloped me, too." He grinned lugubriously. "I didn't know the cusscould hit so hard," he muttered. "Warden, he salivated me--hit me sodurned hard I thought the roof had dropped on me."

  Warden stiffened; then leaned forward, his lips loose, his eyesmalignant. "What do you carry those two guns for, Singleton? I thoughtyou knew how to use them. Men have told me you know."

  "Bah!" exclaimed Singleton. His gaze met Warden's, his eyes gleamingwith resentment. "What do you know about Kane Lawler?"

  "I hate him, Singleton."

  "Well, I reckon you ain't the only one. I ain't exactly in love with thecuss, myself. I was thinkin' of my guns when I was with him in theschoolhouse, but somehow I didn't feel like takin' a chance on slingin''em. I ain't tryin' to explain nothin'--I just couldn't make my hands gofor 'em, that's all. Hell! I reckon the man who can draw a gun on KaneLawler when he's lookin' at him ain't been born yet. But I'm gettin'square with him for wallopin' me--I'm lettin' you know that, rightenough!"

  "You'll have your chance, Singleton. Lawler will have to trail hiscattle--as far as Red Rock, anyway."

  Singleton's eyes glowed with venomous satisfaction. He grinned evilly atWarden.

  "So he wouldn't do business with you, eh? I knowed it, an' I've beengettin' ready. Ha, ha! He'll wish he had. Blondy Antrim rode in as faras Kinney's canon last night. I met him an' had a long talk with him.He's keen for it--says he admires any guy which can plan a thing thatbig. Grinned like a hyena when I told him the big guys back of itwouldn't let any law interfere. He's got seventy men, hesays--dare-devil gun-fighters from down south a piece which will doanything he tells 'em an' howl for more."

  Warden moistened his lips as he grinned his satisfaction.

  "There's only one trail, Singleton--you are sure of that?"

  "One trail--the Tom Long trail. The devil himself couldn't find anotherthrough that country."

  Warden leaned back in his chair, laughing lowly. Into his manner as hesat there came a confidence that had not been there before--bold,arrogant. His laugh had a sinister quality in it; in his eyes was thelight of greed.

  And as he watched Singleton something else came into his eyes--somethingabysmal, causing them to narrow and glow with a bestial light.

  "Singleton," he said, his voice thick and throaty; "when I stepped intoJim Lefingwell's boots the county board of education appointed me tosucceed Lefingwell as school commissioner for Willets. It strikes methat something ought to be done about the teacher punishing your boy. Ithink I had better have a talk with her."

  "Shucks," growled Singleton; "I reckon the kid deserved what he got. Hewas tryin' to wallop her when Lawler come in. I ain't admirin' RuthHamlin none, but I reckon she wasn't to blame for that. If you wasfiggerin' to see Lawler, now, why that would be more to the point." Hegrinned crookedly at Warden, slight mockery in his gaze.

  Warden scowled. "That's your job, Singleton. If he tries to 'wallop' meas he walloped you, I'll have something to say to him."

  "It's safer to telegraph to the cuss," grinned Singleton, sourly.

  Warden apparently did not hear Singleton's last words, for he was gazingmeditatively past him. He took leave of Singleton and walked to thefront of the saloon, where he stood for many minutes leaning on the bar,thoughtfully looking out into the street.

  The shadows of the buildings across the street from him had grown long,and the light from the sun was mellowing when Warden walked to thefront door and stood for an instant on the threshold.

  Down the street in front of his office stood Red King. Other horses werehitched here and there, but there was no human being in sight. The quietpeace of the waning afternoon had settled over town; it was the periodwhen human activity slackens.

  Warden stepped down upon the sidewalk. There was a furtive gleam in hiseyes, his face was flushed; he was in the grip of a passion thatthoughts of Ruth Hamlin had brought to him. He had seen the girl anumber of times; he had talked with her twice. Each time when he hadtalked with her he had felt the heat of a great desire seize him. Andduring his talk with Singleton he had yielded to the impulse that wasnow driving him.

  Just why the impulse had come to him at that instant he could not havetold. He knew Kane Lawler's name had been mentioned in connection withthe girl's; and it might have been that his hatred of Lawler, and thesudden jealousy that had developed in him over the incident of thefluttering handkerchief, had gripped him. But he was aware that just atthis time he was risking much--risking his life and jeopardizing thebusiness venture in which he was engaged. Yet the impulse which wasdriving him had made him reckless; it had dulled his sense ofresponsibility; had swept away all considerations of caution. When hesaw there was no one on the street he walked eastward to the liverystable where he kept his horse, saddled
and bridled it, mounted and rodeaway.

  His ranch, the Two Diamond, was fifteen miles southwestward. Warden rodedirectly east, bearing a little south after he had traveled somedistance from town, striking a narrow trail that wound a sinuous courseover the plains.

  The passion that had seized Warden still held him. He told himself thathe really intended merely to call upon Ruth professionally, in his roleof school commissioner; he assured himself that she must be made tounderstand that the forcible disciplining of her pupils would not betolerated. Yet as he rode he kept glancing backward apprehensively,though he knew that if he made his visit merely official he need havenothing to fear from anyone.

  Twice, as Warden rode, he halted his horse and debated the wisdom ofreturning. And twice he rode on again telling himself he had a right tovisit the girl, and that he meant no harm.

  At most he desired merely to see the girl again, to experience thethrills that he had felt upon the other occasions he had talked withher. And when at dusk he came in sight of the Hamlin cabin he felt thathe had really come on an official visit.

  He saw Ruth's pony saddled and bridled, standing at a corner of thecorral, where she had left him when she had returned from theschoolhouse some hours before.

  She had found the house unoccupied when she arrived; there was evidencethat her father had left shortly after breakfast--for the dishes wereunwashed and the floor unswept--two duties that he always hadperformed, knowing that in the morning she had a ten-mile ride beforeher.

  Table and floor had been attended to by the girl. But she had donelittle else. For hours she had sat in a chair near the front door,thinking of what had happened in the schoolhouse--of what she hadheard--the evidence that Kane Lawler knew what her father had beendoing, and that he was trying to protect her.

  She believed it was the latter knowledge that made her feel so small, soinsignificant, so utterly miserable. For while she was convinced that hewould think no less of her, no matter what her father had done, the factthat Lawler was trying to keep the knowledge of her father's guilt fromher told her that he appreciated the keen disgrace that threatened her.

  When Warden dismounted near the cabin door she thought it was her fatherreturning, and she got up and went to the stove, where she stood,lifting the iron lids, preparatory to starting a fire.

  She felt that she could not look at her father, after what had happened;and so she laid some wood in the stove, deliberately keeping her back tothe door, trying to think of something to say to her father--for she haddetermined to tell him about the incident of the morning.

  She was forced to go to a shelf for matches, however, and when sheturned, her eyes flashing with accusation, she saw Warden standing inthe open doorway, watching her. She stood very still, and spoke no word.

  When Warden noted the swift change of expression that came over herface--the astonishment that instantly dominated all else, he grinnedsmoothly.

  "Surprised to see me, Miss Hamlin? You shouldn't be, after what happenedat the schoolhouse today. I have called to have a talk with you aboutit."

  The girl's quick smile was cold and indifferent. What happened to hernow was of little importance. She supposed Warden had come to tell hershe had been discharged; but that made little difference to her. Shefelt that she had done right in attempting to chastize Jimmy Singleton;and she would do it again under the same circumstances.

  "Is it necessary to talk?" she questioned, coldly. "I am not sorry forwhat I did. I suppose you have come to notify me of my dismissal."

  "On the contrary, I have come to assure you that you did what wasright--exactly what I would have done," smiled Warden. "The onlycriticism I have is that you should not have dismissed school; youshould have stayed right there and had it out."

  Warden stepped inside and walked close to Ruth.

  "I want to shake hands with you, Miss Hamlin; you have the necessaryspirit."

  Some color surged into Ruth's face. She realized now, that she did notwant to lose the position--that it meant much to her. It meant at leasther independence from her father, that she could support herself withoutdepending upon the money he gained from his guilty practices. It meant,too, that the additional disgrace of being summarily dismissed would notdescend upon her.

  Impulsively, she took Warden's hand. She looked inquiringly at himthough, when he gripped it tightly, and the color that had come into herface fled, leaving it pale, when Warden continued to hold the hand,gripping it so hard that she could not withdraw it. She looked intentlyat him, over the few feet of space that was between them, noting thequeer light in his eyes--a glow of passion; watching the crimson tidethat rose above his collar, staining his face darkly.

  For the driving desire that had seized Warden had conquered him.Physical contact with the girl had brought his passions to life again.They had overwhelmed him, had sent his grain skittering back into thosedead and gone periods when man's desires surmounted laws.

  Warden no longer considered the risks whose ghosts had haunted him onhis ride to the Hamlin cabin; his fears had been swallowed by theoblivion of mental irresponsibility. He had only the vivid knowledgethat he was alone in the cabin with the girl.

  "But there are people in Willets who are determined that you shall go,"he said. "I can keep you on the job in spite of them, my dear--and I'lldo it. But there are certain conditions--certain----"

  She struck him, then, bringing her free hand around with a wide, fullsweep. The open hand landed on the side of his face with a smack thatresounded through the cabin, staggering him, causing him to release theother hand.

  A great, red welt appeared on his cheek where the hand had struck; andhe felt of his cheek with his fingers, amazed, incredulous. For aninstant only, however, he stood, trying to wipe the sting of the blowaway. Then he laughed throatily and started after her--she havingretreated behind the table, where she stood, watching him, her eyeswide, her face dead white.

  Warden, leaning far over the table, saw her eyes close as she stoodthere; saw her fingers grip the edge of the table; noted that her chinhad dropped and that she seemed to be on the point of fainting.

  Warden's back was toward the front door; he had to slip sideways to getaround the table, and as he did so his profile was brought toward thedoor. He saw a shadow at his feet--a shadow cast by the last effulgentglow of the setting sun--a shadow made by a man standing in the doorway.

  Warden halted and held hard to the table edge. Reason, cold, remorselessreason surged back into his brain, accompanied by a paralyzing fear.Some prescience told him that the man in the doorway was Kane Lawler.And though he was convinced of it, he was a long time lifting his headand in turning it the merest trifle toward the door. And when he sawthat the dread apparition was indeed Lawler, and that Lawler's heavypistol was extending from his side, the hand and arm behind it rigid, hestiffened, flung himself around and faced Lawler, his mouth open, hiseyes bulging with the terrible dread of death and the awful certaintythat death was imminent.

  For an instant there was a silence--breathless, strained, pregnant withthe promise of tragedy. Then the silence was rent by Lawler's voice,dry, light, and vibrant:

  "Warden, if you move a quarter of an inch I'll blow you to hell!"

  Lawler walked slowly to Ruth, took her by the shoulders and steadiedher.

  "It's Lawler, Ruth," he said reassuringly. "I want you to tell me what'swrong here." He shook her, gently, and she opened her eyes and looked athim dazedly. Then, as she seemed to recognize him, to become convincedthat it was really Lawler whom she had seen in the doorway, she smiledand rested her head on his shoulder, her hands patting his arms and hisback as though to convince herself beyond doubt.

  For an instant she stood there, holding tightly to him; and then shereleased herself, stepping back with flushed cheeks and shamed eyes.

  "Kane, I am so glad you came!" she said. "Why, Kane! that man--" Sheshuddered and covered her face with her hands.

  "I reckon that's all!" said Lawler. There was a cold, bitter grin on hi
slips as he stepped around the table and stood in front of Warden.

  "Warden, I'm going back to town with you. We're going right now. Go outand get on your horse!"

  Lawler's voice, the cold flame in his eyes and his icy deliberation,told Ruth of a thing that, plainly, Warden had already seen--that thoughboth men would begin the ride to "town," only Lawler would reach there.

  Ruth watched, fascinated, her senses dulled by what she saw in Lawler'smanner and in the ghastly white of Warden's face. Warden understood. Heunderstood, and his breath was labored, his flesh palsied--and still hewas going to obey. For Ruth saw him move; saw him sway toward the door;saw Lawler watching him as though he was fighting to hold his passionsin check, fighting back a lust to kill the man where he stood.

  Warden had reached the door; he was crossing the threshold--his headbowed, his shoulders sagging, his legs bending at the knees--when Ruthmoved. She ran around the table and got between Lawler and Warden,stretching her arms in the open doorway, barring Lawler's way. Her eyeswere wild with terror.

  "Don't, Kane!" she begged; "don't do that! Oh, I know what you mean todo. Please, Kane; let him go--alone. He didn't do--what--what--" Shepaused, shuddering.

  Lawler's eyes softened as he looked at her; he smiled faintly, and sheknew she had won. She did not resist when he drew her gently away fromthe door. Standing just inside, she saw him go out to where Wardenstood, pale and shaking, looking at both of them. Then she heardLawler's voice as he spoke to Warden:

  "Warden, I'm letting you off. Miss Ruth is going to teach school whereshe's been teaching it. The schoolhouse is your deadline--the same asthis cabin. Whenever you step into one or the other, your friends aregoing to mourn for you. Get going!"

  It was a long time before Lawler moved. And when he did re-enter thecabin Ruth was nowhere to be seen.

  Lawler paused near the center of the big room and gazed about him. Thedoor leading to one of the rooms that ran from the big room was open.The other was closed. He walked to the closed door and stood before it,his lips set in grim lines, his eyes somber.

  "Ruth!" he called, lowly.

  There was no answer; and again he called. This time a smothered voicereached him, quavering, tearful:

  "Please go away, Kane; I don't want to see you. I'm so upset."

  "I reckon I'll go, Ruth." But still he lingered, watching the door, nowsmiling faintly, understandingly. Beyond the door were the sounds ofsobbing.

  Lawler folded his arms over his chest and with the fingers of one handcaressing his chin, watched the door.

  "Ruth," he said, finally; "where is your father?"

  "I--I d-don't know. And I don't c-care."

  Lawler started, and his eyes narrowed with suspicion as he looked at thedoor--it seemed that he was trying to peer through it.

  "Ruth," he said slowly; "I saw you looking into the schoolhouse throughthe broken window, after I hit Singleton the second time, and while Iwas talking to him. What did you hear?"

  "Everything, Kane--everything." The sobs were furious, now.

  Lawler frowned through a silence during which his eyes glowed savagely.Then, after a while, he spoke again.

  "I've known it for a long time, Ruth."

  "Oh!" she sobbed.

  "It was Singleton's fault. He won't do it any more."

  There was no answer; a brooding silence came from beyond the door.

  Then Lawler said gently: "Ruth, I'm asking you again: Will you marryme?"

  "I'll never marry you, now, Kane--never, never, never!"

  The sobs had ceased now; but the voice was choked with emotion.

  "All right, Ruth," said Lawler; "I'll ask you again, sometime. And thenext time you won't refuse."

  He crossed the floor and stepped outside. Leaping into the saddle hesent Red King thundering away from the cabin into the dusk that swathedthe southern distance.

  A yellow moon was rising above the peaks of the hills at the far edge ofthe Wolf River valley when Lawler dismounted from Red King and strode tothe big Circle L bunkhouse. Inside a kerosene lamp burned on a tablearound which were several men.

  The men looked up in astonishment as Lawler entered; then got to theirfeet, looking at Lawler wonderingly, for on his face was an expressionthat none of them ever had seen there before.

  "Have any of you seen Joe Hamlin?" said Lawler.

  A yellow-haired giant among them grinned widely and pointed eloquentlytoward a bunk, where a man's body, swathed in blankets, could be seen.

  "That's him," said the yellow-haired giant. "He hit here this mornin',sayin' you'd hired him, an' that he was standin' straight up on his legslike a man, hereafter. We took him on under them conditions."

  Lawler strode to the bunk. He deliberately unrolled the blankets, seizedHamlin by the middle and lifted him, setting him down on the floorungently.

  By the time Lawler released him, Hamlin had his eyes open, and heblinked in bewilderment at the faces of the men, opening his mouth witha snap when he saw Lawler.

  "Lawler, what in blazes is the matter--I ain't done nothin'!"

  "You're going to do something!" declared Lawler. He waited until Hamlindressed, then he led him outside. At an end of the corral fence, whereno one could hear, Lawler talked long and earnestly to Hamlin. And whenHamlin left, riding a Circle L horse, he was grinning.

  "It's a straight trail, Hamlin," said Lawler gravely, as Hamlin rodeaway; "a straight trail, and not a word to Ruth!"

  "Straight it is, Lawler," answered Hamlin. "I'm testifyin' to that!"