CHAPTER IV
A NEW DEAL OF THE CARDS
For the two performances following there occurred an enforced shift ofactors, owing to Mr. Mooney's being somewhat indisposed; and Winston,aided by considerable prompting from the others, succeeded in gettingthrough his lines, conscious of much good-natured guying out in front,and not altogether insensible to Miss Norvell's efforts not to appearamused. This experience left him in no pleasanter frame of mind, whilea wish to throw over the whole thing returned with renewed temptation.Why not? What was he continuing to make such a fool of himself for,anyhow? He was assuredly old enough to be done with chasing afterwill-o'-the-wisps; and besides, there was his constant liability tomeet some old acquaintance who would blow the whole confounded storythrough the Denver clubs. The thought of the probable sarcasm of hisfellows made him wince. Moreover, he was himself ashamed of hisactions. This actress was nothing to him; he thoroughly convincedhimself of that important fact at least twenty times a day. She was adelightful companion, bright, witty, full of captivating character,attractively winsome, to be sure, yet it was manifestly impossible forhim ever to consider her in any more serious way. This becamesufficiently clear to his reasoning, yet, at the same time, he couldnever quite break free. She seldom appeared to him twice thesame--proving as changeable as the winds, her very nature seeming tovary with a suddenness which never permitted his complete escape fromher fascinations, but left him to surmise how she would greet him next.Frank or distant, filled with unrestrained gayety or dignified bywomanly reserve, smiling or grave, the changeable vagaries of MissNorvell were utterly beyond his guessing, while back of all theseoutward manifestations of tantalizing personality, there continuallylurked a depth of hidden womanhood, which as constantly baffled hisefforts at fathoming. It piqued him to realize his own helplessness,to comprehend how completely this girl turned aside his most daringefforts at uncovering the true trend of her heart and life. Sherefused to be read, wearing her various masks with a cool defiancewhich apparently bespoke utter indifference to his good opinion, whileconstantly affording him brief, tantalizing glimpses into half-revealeddepths that caused his heart to throb with anticipation never entirelyrealized.
It did not once occur to his mind that such artifices might be directedas much toward herself as him; he lacked the conceit which could haveconvinced him that they merely marked a secret struggle for mastery, adesperate effort to crush an inclination to surrender before thetemptation of the moment. It was a battle for deliverance being foughtsilently behind a mask of smiles, an exchange of sparkling commonplace;yet ever beneath this surface play she was breathing a fervent prayerthat he would go away of his own volition and leave her free. Far moreclearly than he, the woman recognized the utter impossibility of anyserious purpose between them, and she fought his advances with everyweapon in her armory, her very soul trembling behind the happy smilingof her lips. It was bravely attempted, and yet those dull weapons ofdefence served merely to increase his interest, to awaken his passion,and thus bind him more strongly to her. Safe once again from generalobservation, he returned to the obscurity of the wings and to theroutine handling of trunks and scenery, feeling totally unable topermit her to pass entirely out of his life. Within her own room shedampened her pillow with tears of regret and remorse, yet finally shesank to sleep strangely happy because he lingered. It was the way of awoman; it was no less the way of a man.
It was thus that the "Heart of the World" players came to fulfil theirengagement at San Juan upon a Saturday night. This was the liveliestcamp in all that mountain region, a frantic, feverish, mushroom city oftents and shacks, sprawling frame business blocks, and a few ugly brickabominations, perched above the golden rocks of the Vila Valley,bounded on one side by the towering cliffs, on the other by thepitiless desert. In those days San Juan recognized no materialdistinction between midnight and noon-day. All was glitter, glow,life, excitement along the streets; the gloomy overhanging mountainswere pouring untold wealth into her lap, while vice and crime,ostentation and lawlessness, held high carnival along the crowded,straggling byways. The exultant residents existed to-day in uttercarelessness of the morrow, their one dominant thought gold, their soleacknowledged purpose those carnal pleasures to be purchased with it.Everything was primitive, the animal yet in full control, the drinking,laughing, fighting animal, filled with passion and blood-lust,worshipping bodily strength, and governed by the ideals of a frontiersociety wherein the real law hung dangling at the hip. Saloons,gambling halls, dance halls, and brothels flaunted themselvesshamelessly upon every hand; the streets exhibited one continual riot,while all higher life was seemingly rendered inactive by inordinategrasping after wealth, and reckless squandering of it on appetite andvice; over all, as if blazoned across the blue sky, appeared theever-recurring motto of careless humanity, "Eat, drink, and be merry,for to-morrow ye die." Hardly a week before a short railroad spur hadbeen constructed up the narrow, rock-guarded valley from BoltonJunction, eighteen miles to the northward, and over those uneven railsthe "Heart of the World" troupe of adventurous strollers arrived at SanJuan, to find lodgment in that ramshackle pile of boards known locallyas the "Occidental Hotel."
The San Juan Opera House, better known as the Gayety, was in truthmerely an adjunct to the Poodle-Dog Saloon, the side-doors from themain floor opening directly into the inviting bar-room, while those inthe gallery afforded an equally easy egress into the spacious gamblingapartments directly above. It was a monstrous ugly building,constructed entirely of wood most hastily prepared; the stage wasutilized both night and day for continuous variety entertainments ofthe kind naturally demanded by the motley gathering. These, however,were occasionally suspended to make room for some adventuroustravelling company to appear in the legitimate drama, but at the closeof every evening performance the main floor was promptly cleared, therows of chairs pushed hastily back from the centre, and the space thusvacated utilized for a general dance, which invariably continued untildawn.
When the drop-curtain slowly rose that Saturday evening fully threethousand people crowded the hall, eager for any fresh excitement; andready enough either to taunt or applaud a performer, as the whim movedthem. Bearded miners conspicuous in red shirts; cattlemen wearing widesombreros and hairy "chaps"; swarthy Mexicans lazily puffing theinseparable cigarette; gamblers attired in immaculate linen, togetherwith numerous women gaudy of cheek and attire, composed a frontieraudience full of possibilities. The result might easily prove good orevil, according to the prevailing temper, but fortunately the "Heart ofthe World" quickly caught the men's fancy, the laughter ringing loud inappreciation of Mr. Lane's ardent buffoonery, while the motley crowdsat in surprised silence evincing respect, as Miss Norvell drove hometo their minds the lesson of a woman's sorrow and struggle againsttemptation. It was well worth while looking out across the oil-lampfootlights upon those hard-faced, bearded men, those gaudily attiredwomen, thus held and controlled by perfectly depleted emotion, the vastaudience so silent that the click of the wheel, the rattle of ivorychips in the rooms beyond, became plainly audible. There wasinspiration in it likewise, and never before did Beth Norvell moreclearly exhibit her native power, her spark of real genius.
Winston found little to do in his department that night, either on oroff the stage, as the company expected to spend Sunday in the place.Consequently, he was only slightly behind the other members of thetroupe in attaining the hotel at the conclusion of the evening'sperformance. Indeed, he was earlier than many, for most of the malemembers had promptly adjourned to the convenient bar-room, withwhatsoever small sums of money they could wring from out the reluctantpalm of Albrecht. Winston chanced to pause for a moment at the cigarstand to exchange a pleasant good-night word with the seemingly genialclerk.
"You one of the actors?" questioned the latter, exhibiting some slightinterest.
The young man nodded indifferently, not feeling unduly proud of thedistinction.
"Sorry I couldn't have been there," the oth
er went on cordially. "Theboys tell me you gave 'em a mighty fine show, but I 'm here to bet thatsome of your people wish they 'd steered clear of San Juan."
"How's that?"
"Why, that fat fellow--what's his name?--oh, yes, Albrecht--the sheriffwas in here hunting him with some papers he had to serve, and it wouldhave made you laugh just to see that duck climb out when I met himyonder on the street a few minutes ago, and gave him the highball.Guest of the house, you know, and we did n't want him pinched in here;besides, we understood he carried the scads for the rest of your bunch,and we naturally wanted our share. The sheriff's out tryin' to findhim now; but Lord! the fellow 's safe enough out of the county by thistime, if he skipped the way I advised him he 'd better. There was anextra ore train goin' down to Bolton to-night, and he just had time tocatch it on the run."
The dramatic situation slowly dawned on Winston while the clerk wasspeaking.
"Do you mean to tell me Albrecht has actually skipped out?" hequestioned, anxiously. "Did he leave any money?"
"Sure; he paid your folks' board till Monday. You bet I looked afterthat."
"Board till Monday!" and Winston totally forgot himself. "That is n'tsalary, man; there is something infernally dirty about this whole deal.Why, he took in over three thousand dollars to-night, and he's got allof that, and at least a week's receipts besides--the infernal cur! Washe alone?"
"Tall fellow with clipped black moustache, and bald head."
"Lane; I expected as much; they're birds of a feather. When can theyget out of the Junction?"
"Well, the first train scheduled goes east at four o'clock, but it 'sgenerally late."
Winston walked twice across the floor, alternately swearing andthinking.
"Is there any way I could get there before that time?" he questioned,finally, his square jaw setting firm.
"Well, I reckon you might, by goin' hossback across the old trail, butyou 'd need to have a guide in the dark, and you 'd find it a hell of ahard ride."
The young engineer stood a moment staring out of the window into thenight. The street was well illumined by the numerous saloon lights,and he could perceive scattering flakes of snow in the air, blown aboutby the gusty wind. He no longer felt the slightest doubt regardingAlbrecht's desertion, and a wave of indignation swept over him. He didnot greatly care himself regarding the small amount of money due forhis services, but it was a dirty, contemptible trick, and he resentedbeing so easily made the victim of such a scheme. Suddenly he wonderedhow this unexpected occurrence might affect the others. With one ofthem alone in mind he strode back to the counter, his teeth clinchedsavagely.
"What is the number of Miss Norvell's room?"
"Fifty-four--first door to the right of the stairs."
He took the steep flight of steps at a run, caught a glimpse of dimlyreflected light shining through the closed transom, and rapped sharply.There was a hurried movement within, and her voice spoke.
"What is wanted?"
"I am Mr. Winston, and I must speak with you at once."
His tone was sufficiently low and earnest to make her realize instantlysome grave emergency. Without hesitation the door was held open, andshe stood before him in the faint light of the single lamp, wearing afleecy white wrapper, her dark hair partially disarranged, her eyesseeking his own in bewilderment.
"What is it?"
"Are you aware that both Albrecht and Lane have skipped out?"
"Why, no," her cheeks suddenly paling, her fingers clasping the edge ofthe door. "Do you mean they have deserted us here to--to take care ofourselves?"
He nodded. "Yes, that's about it. What I came to ask was, does thatfellow owe you any money?"
For an instant she hesitated, as if in lingering distrust of his exactpurpose, her lips parted, her face still plainly picturing the shock ofdiscovery.
"What difference can that possibly make now? Why do you require toknow?"
"Because I half believe you have been left penniless. Albrecht has noteven spoken about any pay to me since I joined the company; and when Ilearned he had deliberately left us stalled here, my first thought wasof your unpleasant situation if my suspicions proved true."
"If they were, what is there you can do?"
"The hotel clerk says it is possible to reach the Junction on horsebackbefore any trains leave there on the main line. I propose to make himdisgorge, but I must know first exactly how things stand. Have you anymoney?"
She stood gazing at him, her anger, shame, all forgotten in thefascination of Winston's determined face. For the first time shethoroughly comprehended the cool, compelling power of this man, and itmastered her completely. She felt no longer the slightest doubt ofwhat he purposed doing, and her woman heart swelled responsively to hismasculine strength.
"I--I have n't got a dollar," she confessed simply, her lashes droopingover her lowered eyes.
"What does that fellow owe you?"
"Two hundred and sixty dollars; he has merely dribbled out what littleI have been actually compelled to ask for."
A moment he remained standing there, breathing hard. Once she venturedto glance up inquiringly, only to catch his stern eyes, and asinstantly lower her own.
"All right, Miss Norvell," he said finally, the words seeming fairly toexplode from between his lips. "I understand the situation now, andyou are to remain here until I come back. I 'll get your money, don'tfear, if I have to trail him clear to Denver, but I 'll take whatlittle the miserable thief owes me out of his hide."
The next moment he was down below in the office rapidly preparing foraction, and Miss Norvell, leaning far out across the banister, listenedto his quick, nervous words of instruction with an odd thrill of pridethat left her cheeks crimson.
Beth Norvell: A Romance of the West Page 4
