The Way of a Man

by Emerson Hough

  CHAPTER XXIII

  ISSUE JOINED

  Later in the evening, Mandy McGovern having left me, perhaps for thepurpose of assisting her protegee in the somewhat difficult art ofdrying buckskin clothing, I was again alone on the river bank, idlywatching the men out on the bars, struggling with their teams and boxboats. Orme had crossed the river some time earlier, and now he joinedme at the edge of our disordered camp.

  "How is the patient getting along?" he inquired. I replied, somewhatsurlily, I fear, that I was doing very well, and thenceforth intended toride horseback and to comport myself as though nothing had happened.

  "I am somewhat sorry to hear that," said he, still smiling in his ownway. "I was in hopes that you would be disposed to turn back down theriver, if Belknap would spare you an escort east."

  I looked at him in surprise. "I don't in the least understand why Ishould be going east, when my business lies in precisely the oppositedirection," I remarked, coolly.

  "Very well, then, I will make myself plain," he went on, seating himselfbeside me. "Granted that you will get well directly--which is verylikely, for the equal of this Plains air for surgery does not exist inthe world--I may perhaps point out to you that at least your injurymight serve as an explanation--as an excuse--you might put it thatway--for your going back home. I thought perhaps that your duty laythere as well."

  "You become somewhat interested in my affairs, Mr. Orme?"

  "Very much so, if you force me to say it."

  "I think they need trouble you no farther."

  "I thought that possibly you might be sensible of a certain obligationto me," he began.

  "I am deeply sensible of it. Are you pleased to tell me what will settlethis debt between us?"

  He turned squarely toward me and looked me keenly in the eye. "I havetold you. Turn about and go home. That is all."

  "I do not understand you."

  "But I understand your position perfectly."

  "Meaning?"

  "That your affections are engaged with a highly respectable young ladyback at your home in Virginia. Wait--" he raised his hand as I turnedtoward him. "Meaning also," he went on, "that your affections areapparently also somewhat engaged with an equally respectable young ladywho is not back home in Virginia. Therefore--"

  He caught my wrist in a grip of steel as I would have struck him. I sawthen that I still was weak.

  "Wait," he said, smiling coldly. "Wait till you are stronger."

  "You are right," I said, "but we shall settle these matters."

  "That, of course. But in the meantime, I have only suggested to you thatcould you agree with me in my point of view our obligation as it standswould be settled."

  "Orme," said I, suddenly, "your love is a disgrace to any woman."

  "Usually," he admitted, calmly, "but not in this case. I propose tomarry Miss Meriwether; and I tell you frankly, I do not propose to haveanything stand in my way."

  "Then, by God!" I cried, "take her. Why barter and dicker over any womanwith another man? The field is open. Do what you can. I know that is theway I'd do."

  "Oh, certainly; but one needs all his chances even in an open field, ina matter so doubtful as this. I thought that I would place it beforeyou--knowing your situation back in Virginia--and ask you--"

  "Orme," said I, "one question--Why did you not kill me the other daywhen you could? Your tracks would have been covered. As it is, I maylater have to uncover some tracks for you."

  "I preferred it the other way," he remarked, still smiling hisinscrutable smile.

  "You surely had no scruples about it."

  "Not in the least. I'd as soon have killed you as to have taken a drinkof water. But I simply love to play any kind of game that tests me,tries me, puts me to my utmost mettle. I played that game in my ownway."

  "I was never very subtle," I said to him simply.

  "No, on the contrary, you are rather dull. I dared not kill you--itwould have been a mistake in the game. It would have cost me hersympathy at once. Since I did not, and since, therefore, you owe mesomething for that fact, what do you say about it yourself, my friend?"

  I thought for a long time, my head between my hands, before I answeredhim. "That I shall pay you some day Orme, but not in any such way as yousuggest."

  "Then it is to be war?" he asked, quietly.

  I shrugged my shoulders. "You heard me."

  "Very well!" he replied, calmly, after a while. "But listen. I don'tforget. If I do not have my pay voluntarily in the way I ask, I shallsome day collect it in my own fashion."

  "As you like. But we Cowles men borrow no fears very far in advance."

  Orme rose and stood beside me, his slender figure resembling less thatof a man than of some fierce creature, animated by some uncanny spirit,whose motives did not parallel those of human beings. "Then, Mr. Cowles,you do not care to go back down the valley, and to return to the girl inVirginia?"

  "You are a coward to make any such request."

  His long white teeth showed as he answered. "Very well," he said. "It isthe game. Let the best man win. Shall it then be war?"

  "Let the best man win," I answered. "It is war."

  We both smiled, each into the other's face.