Going Some

by Rex Beach

  CHAPTER XV

  In a daze, Speed saw his friend mount the porch painfully; in adaze, he shook his hand. Subconsciously he beheld Lawrence Glasscome panting into view, throw up his hands at sight of Covington,and cry out in a strange tongue. When he regained his facultieshe broke into the conversation harshly.

  "What have you done to yourself?"

  "I broke a toe," explained the athlete.

  "You broke a toe?"

  "He broke a toe!" wailed Glass, faintly.

  "If it's nothing but a toe, it won't hurt your running." Speedseized eagerly upon the faintest hope.

  "No. I'll be all right in a few weeks." Covington spokecarelessly, his eyes bent upon Jean Chapin. "You've g-got to runto-morrow."

  "What!" Covington dragged his glance away from the cheeks of hissweetheart.

  "I--I'm sick. You'll have to."

  "Don't be an idiot, Wally. I can't walk!"

  Helen explained, with the pride of one displaying her ownhandiwork: "Mr. Speed defends the Flying Heart to-morrow. You arejust in time to see him."

  "When did you learn to box, Wally?" Covington was genuinelyamazed.

  "I'm not going to box. It's a footrace. I'm training--beentraining ever since I arrived."

  In his first bewilderment the latecomer might have unwittinglybetrayed his friend had not Jean suddenly inquired:

  "Where is Roberta?"

  "Roberta!" Covington tripped over one of his crutches. "Robertawho?"

  "Why, Roberta Keap, of course! She's chaperoning us while motheris away."

  The hero of countless field-days turned pale, and seemed upon thepoint of hobbling back to "Nigger Mike's" buck-board.

  "You and she are old friends, I believe?" Helen interposed.

  "_Yes!_ Oh yes!" Culver flashed his chum a look of dumbentreaty, but Speed was staring round-eyed into space, strivingto read the future.

  Helen started to fetch her just as the pallid chaperon wasentering the door.

  She shook hands with Covington. She observed that he was toodeeply affected at sight of her to speak, and it awakened freshmisgivings in her mind.

  "H-how d'y do! I didn't know you were--here!" he stammered.

  "I thought it would surprise you!" Roberta smiled wanly, amazedat her own self-control, then froze in her tracks as Jeanannounced:

  "Jack will be home to-night, Culver. He'll be delighted to seeyou!"

  J. Wallingford Speed offered a diversion by bursting into ahollow laugh. Now that the world was in league to work his owndownfall, it was time someone else had a touch of suffering. Tothis end he inquired how the toe had come to be broken.

  "I broke it in Omaha--automobile accident." Culver was fightingto master himself.

  "Omaha! Did you stop in Omaha?" inquired Jean.

  "A city of beautiful women," Speed reflected, audibly. "Somebodystep on your foot at a dance?"

  "No, of course not! I don't know anybody in Omaha! I wentmotoring--"

  "Joy-ride?"

  "Not at all."

  "Who was with you?" Miss Chapin's voice was ominously sweet.

  "N--nobody I knew."

  "Does that mean that you were alone?"

  "Yes. I stopped off between trains to view the city, and took a'Seeing Omaha' ride. The yap wagon upset, and--I broke my toe."

  "You left Chicago ten days ago," said Speed accusingly.

  "Of course, but--when I broke my toe I had to stay. It's abeautiful city--lots of fine buildings." "How did you like thejail?"

  "What in the world are you boys talking about?" queried MissBlake.

  "Mr. Speed seems amused at Culver's accident." Roberta gave him astinging look. "Now we'd better let Culver go to his room andfreshen up a bit. I want to talk to you, Helen," and Speeddrooped at the meaning behind her words. But it was time for ageneral conference; events were shaping themselves too rapidlyfor him to cope with. Once the three were alone he lost no timein making his predicament known, the while his friend listened inamazement.

  "But is it really so serious?" the latter asked, finally.

  "It's life or death. There's a homocidal maniac named Willieguarding me daytimes, and a pair of renegades who keep watch atmy window all night. The cowboys bathe me in ice-water to toughenme, and feed me raw meat to make me wild. In every corner therelurks an assassin with orders to shoot me if I break training,every where I go some low-browed criminal feels my biceps,pinches my legs, and asks how my wind is. I tell you, I'm goingmad."

  "And the worst part of it is," spoke Glass, sympathetically,"they'll bump me off first. It's a pipe."

  "But, Wally, you can't run."

  "Don't I know it?"

  "Don't _I_?" seconded the trainer.

  "Then why attempt the impossible? Call the race off."

  "It's too late. Don't you understand? The bets are made, and its'pay or play.' The cowboys have mortgaged their souls on me."

  "He was makin' a play for that little doll--"

  "Don't you call Miss Blake a doll, Larry! I won't stand for it!"

  "Well, 'skirt,' then."

  "Why don't you cut it? There's a train East at midnight."

  "And leave Helen--like that? Her faith in me has weakenedalready; she'd hate me if I did that. No! I've got to face itout!"

  "They'll be singin' hymns for both of us," predicted the fat man.

  "I don't care. They can boil me in oil--I won't let her think I'ma coward."

  "Larry doesn't have to stay."

  "Of course not. He can escape."

  "Not a chance," said the trainer. "They watch me closer 'n theydo him."

  Covington considered for a moment. "It certainly looks bad, butperhaps the other fellow can't run either. Who is he?"

  "A cook named Skinner."

  "Happy name! Well, two-thirds of a sprint is in the start. Howdoes Wally get in motion, Lawrence?"

  "Like a sacred ox." Glass could not conceal his contempt.

  "I'll give him some pointers; it will all help." But Speed wasnervous and awkward--so awkward, in fact, that the coach finallygave it up as a bad job, saying:

  "It's no use, Wally, you've got fool feet."

  "I have, eh? Well, I didn't break them getting out of jail."

  "The less said about that jail the better. I'm in troublemyself."

  Speed might have explained that his chum's dilemma was by nomeans so serious as he imagined, had not watchman Willie thrusthis head through the open window at that moment with the remark:

  "Time to get busy!"

  "We'll be right with you!" Glass seized his protege by the armand bore him away, muttering: "Stick it out, brother, we'renearin' the end!"

  Again Speed donned his running-suit and took to the road for hisfarewell practise. Again Willie followed at a distance onhorseback, watching the hills warily. But all hope had fled fromthe Yale man now, and he returned to his training-quartersdisheartened, resigned.

  He was not resigned, however, to the visit he received later fromMiss Helen Blake. That young lady rushed in upon him like aminiature cyclone, sweeping him off his feet by the fury of herdenunciation, allowing him no opportunity to speak, until, with ahalf-sob, she demanded:

  "Why--why did you deceive me?"

  "I love you!" Wally said, as if no further explanation werenecessary.

  "That explains nothing. You made sport of me! You couldn't loveme and do that!"

  "Helen!"

  "I thought you were so fine, so strong, but you lied--yes, thatis what you did! You fibbed to me the first day I met you, andyou've been fibbing ever since. I could never, never care for aman who would do that."

  "Who has told you these things?"

  "Roberta, for one. She opened my eyes to your--baseness."

  "Well, Roberta has a grudge against my sex. She's engaged to allthe men she hasn't already married. Marriage is a habit with her.It has made her suspicious--"

  "But you did deceive me, didn't you?"

  "Will you marry me?" asked J. Wallingford Speed.

  "The
idea!" Miss Blake gasped. "Will you?"

  "Please don't speak that way. When a man cares for a woman, hedoesn't deceive her--he tells her everything. You told me youwere a great runner, and I believed you. I'll never believe youagain. Of course, I shall behave to you in a perfectly friendlymanner, but underneath the surface I shall be consumed withindignation." Miss Blake commenced to be consumed. "See! Youdon't acknowledge your perfidy even now."

  "What's the use? If I said I couldn't run, and then beat thecook, you'd believe I deceived you again. And suppose that Ican't beat him?"

  "Then I shall know they have told me the truth."

  "And if, on the other hand, I should win"--Miss Blake's eyesfell--"Helen, would you marry me?" Speed started toward her, butshe had fled out into the twilight.

  Dusk was settling over stretches of purple land, and already theroom was peopled by shadows. Work was over; there were sounds ofcheerful preparations for supper; from the house came faintchords of laughter; a Spanish song floated in, as Carara told hislove to the tune of Mariedetta's guitar:

  "'Adios! adios! adios! por siempre, Adios! coqueta, mi amor; Adios! adios! adios! por siempre, Adios! coqueta, mi amor!'"

  It was the hush that precedes the evening as it does the dawn;the hour of reverie, in which all music is sweet, and forgottenfaces arise to haunt.

  Speed stood where the girl had left him, miserable, hopeless,helpless; the words of the Spanish song seemed sung for a lostlove of his. And certainly his love was lost. He had stayed on inthe stubborn superstitious belief that something would surelyhappen to relieve him from his predicament--fortune had neverfailed him before--and instead, every day, every incident, hadserved to involve him deeper. Now she knew! It was her goldenheart that had held her true thus far, but could any devotionsurvive the sight of humiliation such as he would suffer on themorrow? Already he heard the triumphant jeers of the Centipedehenchmen, the angry clamor of the Flying Heart, the mockinglaughter of his rival.

  He groaned aloud. Forsooth, a broken toe! Of all the countlesstens of thousands of toes in Christendom, the one he had hung hissalvation upon had proven weaker than a reed. What cruel jest ofFate was this? If Fate had wished to break a toe, why had she notselected, out of all the billions at her disposal, that of someother athlete than Culver Covington--even his own.

  J. Wallingford Speed started suddenly and paled. He hadremembered that no one could force a crippled man to run.

  "By Jove," he exclaimed, "I'll do it!"

  He crossed quickly to the bunk-house door and looked in. The roomwas empty. The supper-bell pealed out, and he heard the cow-menanswer it. Now was the appointed moment; he might have no other.With cat-like tread he slipped into the sleeping-quarters,returning in a moment with a revolver. He stared thankfully atthe weapon--better this than dishonor.

  "Why didn't I think of it before? It's perfectly simple. I'llaccidentally shoot myself--in the foot."

  But even as he gazed at the gun he saw that the muzzle was aslarge as a gopher-hole. A bullet of that size would sink a ship,he meditated in a panic, and as for his foot--what frightfulexecution it would work! But--it were better to lose a foot thana foot-race, under present conditions, so he began to unlace hisshoe. Then realizing the value of circumstantial evidence, hepaused. No! His disability must bear all the earmarks of anaccident. He must guess the location of his smallest and leastimportant toe, and trust the rest to his marksmanship. Visions ofblood-poisoning beset him, and when he pressed the muzzle againstthe point of his shoe his hand shook with such a palsy that hefeared he might miss. He steeled himself with the thought thatother men had snuffed out life itself in this manner, then satdown upon the floor and cocked the weapon a second time. Hewondered if the shock might, by any chance, numb him intounconsciousness. If so, he might bleed to death before assistancearrived. But he had nothing to do with that. The only questionwas, which foot. He regarded them both tenderly. They were nicefeet, and had done him many favors. He loved every toe; they werealmost like innocent children. It was a dastardly deed to takeadvantage of them thus, but he advanced the revolver until itpressed firmly against the outside of his left foot, then closedhis eyes, and called upon his courage. There came a great roaringin his ears.

  How long he sat thus waiting for the explosion he did not know,but he opened his eyes at length to find the foot still intact,and the muzzle of the weapon pointing directly at his instep. Healtered his aim hurriedly, when, without warning of any sort, aman's figure appeared silhouetted against the window.

  The figure dropped noiselessly to the floor inside the room, andcried, in a strange voice:

  "Lock those doors! Quick!"

  Finding that it was no hallucination, Speed rose, calling out:

  "Who are you?"

  "Sh-h-h!" The stranger darted across the room and bolted bothdoors, while the other felt a chill of apprehension at thesesinister precautions. He grasped his revolver firmly while hisheart thumped. The fellow's appearance was anything butreassuring: he was swarthy and sun-browned, his clothes wereragged, his overalls were patched; instead of a coat, he wore aloosely flapping vest over a black sateen shirt, long sincerusted out to a nondescript brown.

  "I've been trying to get to you for a week," announced themysterious visitor hoarsely.

  "W-what do you want? Who are you?"

  "I'm Skinner, cook for the Centipede."

  "The man I race?"

  "Not so loud." Skinner was training for the faintest sound fromthe direction of the mess-house.

  "I'll kill him!" exulted the Eastern lad. But the otherforestalled a murder by running on, rapidly:

  "Listen, now! Humpy and I jobbed this gang last month; we'repardners, see? He's got another race framed at Pocatello, and Iwant to make a get-away--"

  "Yes! yes! y-you needn't stay here--on my account."

  "Now don't let's take any chances to-morrow, see? We're both outfor the coin. What do you want to do--win or lose?" Skinnerjumped back to the door and listened.

  "What?"

  "Don't stall!" the stranger cried, impatiently. "Will I win orwill you? What's it worth?" He clipped his words short, his eyesdarted furtive glances here and there.

  "Can _I_ win?" gasped Speed.

  "You can if there's enough in it for me. I'm broke, see? You betfive hundred, and we'll cut it two ways."

  "I-I haven't that much with me."

  "Borrow it. Don't be a boob. Meet me in Albuquerque Sunday, andwe'll split there."

  "Is that all I have to do?"

  "Certainly. What's the matter with you, anyhow?" Skinner cast asuspicious glance at his companion.

  "I-I guess I'm rattled--it's all so sudden."

  "Of course you'll have to run, fast enough so we don't tip off."

  "How fast is that?"

  "Oh, ten-four," carelessly. "That's what Humpy and I did."

  "Ten and four-fifths-seconds?"

  "Certainly. Don't kid me! They're liable to break in on us."Skinner stepped to the window, but Speed halted him with atrembling hand and a voice of agony.

  "Mr. Skinner, I-I can't run that fast. F-fifteen is going somefor me."

  "What!" Skinner stared at his opponent strangely. "That's right.I'm a lemon."

  "Ain't you the Yale champ? The guy that goes under 'even time'?"

  Wally shook his head. "I'm his chum. I couldn't catch a cramp."

  The brown face of the Centipede sprinter split into a grin, hiseyes gleamed. "Then I'll win," said he. "I'm the sucker, but I'llmake good. Get your money down, and I'll split with you."

  "No, no! Not you! Me! _I_ must win!" Speed clutched hiscaller desperately.

  "All right, I'll frame anything; but I can't run any slower thanI did with Joe and make a live of it. They'd shoot us both."

  "But there's a girl in this-a girl I love. It means more thanmere life."

  Skinner was plainly becoming nervous at the length of theinterview.

  "Couldn't you fall down?" inquired the younger man, timidly.

&nbs
p; The cook laughed derisively. "I could fall down twice and beatyou in fifteen." After an instant's thought:

  "Say, there's one chance, if we don't run straight away. There'sa corral out where we race; you insist on running around it, see?There's nothing in the articles about straight-aways. That'll kid'em on the time. If I get too far ahead, I'll fall down."

  "B-but will you stay down? Till I catch up?"

  "Sure! Leave it to me."

  "You won't forget, or anything like that?"

  "Certainly not. But no rough work in front of the cowboys,understand? Sh-h!"

  Skinner vaulted lightly through the window, landing in the dirtoutside without a sound. "Somebody coming," he whispered."Understand Merchants' Hotel, Albuquerque, noon, Sunday." And thenext instant he had vanished into the dusk, leaving behind him ayouth half hysterical with hope.

  Out of the blackest gloom had come J. Wallingford Speed'sdeliverance, and he did not pause to consider the ethicsinvolved. If he had he would have told himself that by Skinner'sown confession the Centipede had won through fraud at the firstrace; if they were paid back in their own coin now it would be nomore than tardy justice. With light heart he hastened to replacethe borrowed revolver in the bunk-room just as voices comingnearer betokened the arrival of his friends from the house. As hestepped out into the night he came upon Jack Chapin.

  "Hello, Wally!"

  "Hello, Jack!" They shook hands, while the owner of the FlyingHeart continued.

  "I've just got in, and they've been telling me about this foot-race. What in the deuce is the matter with you, anyhow? Whydidn't you let me know?"

  The girls drew closer, and Speed saw that Miss Blake was pale.

  "I wouldn't have allowed it for a minute. Now, of course, I'mgoing to call it off."

  "Oh, Jack, dear, you simply can't!" exclaimed his sister. "You'veno idea the state the boys are in."

  "They'll never let you, Chapin," supplemented Fresno.

  The master laughed shortly. "They won't, eh? Who is boss here,I'd like to know?"

  "They've bet a lot of money. And you know how they feel aboutthat phonograph."

  "It's the most idiotic thing I ever heard of. Whatever possessedyou, Wally? If the men make a row, I'll have to smuggle you andGlass over to the railroad to-night."

  "I'm for that," came the voice of Larry.

  "I suppose it's all my fault," Miss Blake began wretchedly,whereat the object of their general solicitude took on an aspectof valor.

  "Say, what is all this fuss about? I don't want to be smuggledanywhere, thank you!"

  "I may not be able to square my men," Chapin reiterated. "It mayhave gone too far."

  "Square! Square! Why should you do any squaring? I'm not going torun-away." Miss Blake clasped her hands and breathed a sigh."I've got to stay here and run a foot-race to-morrow."

  "Don't be a fool, Wally!" Covington added his voice to theothers.

  Speed whirled angrily. "I don't need your advice--convict!" Thechampion hobbled hastily out of range. "I know what I'm doing.I'm going to run to-morrow, and I stand a good chance to win."

  Mr. Fresno, if he had been a girl, would have been said to havegiggled.

  "All right, _Dearie_! I'll bet you five hundred dollars--"as there emerged from the darkness, whence they had approachedunseen, Stover, and behind him the other men.

  "Evenin'! What's all the excitement?" greeted the leader, softly.

  The master of the ranch stepped forward.

  "See here, Bill, I'm sorry, but I won't stand for this foot-race."

  "Why not?" queried the foreman.

  "I just won't, that's all. You'll have to call it off."

  "I'm sorry, too."

  "You refuse?" The owner spoke ominously.

  "You bet he does!" Willie pushed himself forward. "This foot-raceis ordained, and it comes off on time. I make bold to inquire ifyou're talkin' for our runner?"

  "Gentlemen, I can only say to you that for myself I want to run!"declared Speed.

  "Then you'll run."

  "I refuse to allow it," Chapin declared, and instantly there wasan angry murmur; but before it could take definite form, Speedspoke up with equal decisiveness.

  "You can't refuse to let me run, Jack. There are reasons"--hesearched Miss Blake's countenance--"why I must run--and win. Andwin I shall!" Turning, he stalked away into the darkness, andthere followed him a shout of approbation from the ranchmen.

  Jack Chapin threw up his hands.

  "I've done my best."

  "The man's mad!" cried Covington, but Fresno was nearer thetruth. "Nothing of the sort," he remarked, and struck a match;"he's bluffing!"

  As for Helen Blake, she shook her fair head and smiled into thenight.

  "You are all wrong," she said. "_I_ know!"