The Flaming Jewel
Page 19
armour of bed-clothes turned the knife, although hisviolence dashed all breath out of her.
Sick with the agony of it, speechless, she still made the effort; and,as he stumbled to his feet and turned to escape, she struggled upright,choking, blood running down from the knife pricks in her neck.
With the remnant of her strength, and still writhing and gasping forbreath, she tore herself from the sheets and blankets, reeled across theroom to where Stormont's rifle stood, threw in a cartridge, draggedherself to the window.
Dimly she saw a running figure in the night mist, flung the rifle acrossthe window sill and fired. Then she fired again -- or thought she did.There were two shots.
"Eve!" came Stormont's sharp cry, "what the devil are you trying to doto me?"
His cry terrified her; the rifle clattered to the floor.
The next instant he came running up the stars, bare headed, heavy pistolswinging, and halted, horrified at sight of her.
"Eve! My God!" he whispered, taking her blood-wet body into his arms.
"Go after Leverett," she gasped. "He's robbed daddy. He's running away-- out there -- somewhere---"
"Where did he hurt you, Eve -- my little Eve----"
"Oh, go! go!" she wailed, -- "I'm not hurt. He only pricked me with hisknife. I'm not hurt, I tell you. Go after him! Take your pistol andfollow him and kill him!"
"Oh," she cried hysterically, twisting and sobbing in his arms, "don'tlose time here with me! Don't stand here while he's running away withdad's money!" And, "Oh -- oh -- _oh!!_" she sobbed, collapsing in hisarms and clinging to him convulsively as he carried her to her tumbledbed and laid her there.
He said: "I couldn't risk following anybody now, after what has happenedto you. I can't leave you alone here! Don't cry, Eve. I'll get yourman for you, I promise! Don't cry, dear. I was all my fault forleaving this room even for a minute----"
"No, no, no! It's all my fault. I sent you away. Oh, I wish I hadn't.I wish I had let you come back when you wanted to. ... I was waiting foryou. ... I left the door unbolted for you. When it opened I thought itwas you. And it was Leverett! -- it was Leverett!----"
Stormont's face grew very white: "What did he do to you, Eve? Tell me,darling. What did he do to you?"
"Dad's money was under my pillow," she wailed. "Leverett tried to makeme tell where it was. I wouldn't, and he hurt me----"
"How?"
"He pricked me with his knife. When I screamed for you he tried tochoke me with the pillow. Didn't you hear me scream?"
"Yes. I came on the jump."
"It was too late," she sobbed; "-- too late! He saw the money packetunder my pillow and he snatched it and ran. Somehow I found your rifleand fired. I fired twice."
Her only bullet had torn his campaign hat from his head. But he did nottell her.
"Let me see your neck," he said, bending closer.
She bared her throat, making a soft, vague complaint like a hurt bird,-- lay there whimpering under her breath while he bathed the blood awaywith lint, sterilised the two cuts from his emergency packet, and boundthem.
He was still bending low over her when her blue eyes unclosed on his.
"That is the second time I've tried to kill you," she whispered. "Ithought it was Leverett. ... I'd have died if I had killed you."
There was a silence.
"Lie very still," he said huskily. "I'll be back in a moment torebandage your feet and make you comfortable for the night."
"I can't sleep," she repeated desolately. "Dad trusted his money to meand I've let Leverett rob me. How can I sleep?"
"I'll bring you something to make you sleep."
"I can't!"
"I promise you you will sleep. Lie still."
He rose, went away downstairs and out to the barn, where his campaignhat lay in the weed, drilled through by a bullet.
There was something else lying there in the weeds, -- a flat, muddy,shoeless shape sprawling grotesquely in the foggy starlight.
One hand clutched a hunting knife; the other a packet.
Stormont drew the packet from the stiff fingers, then turned the bodyover, and, flashing his electric torch, examined the ratty visage --what remained of it -- for his pistol bullet had crashed through fromear to cheek-bone, almost obliterating the trap-robber's features.
* * * * *
Stormont came slowly into Eve's room and laid the packet on the sheetbeside her.
"Now," he said, "there is no reason for you to lie awake any longer.I'll fix you up for the night."
Deftly he unbandaged, bathed, dressed, and rebandaged her slim whitefeet -- little wounded feet so lovely, so exquisite that his handtrembled as he touched them.
"They're doing fine," he said cheerily. "You've half a degree of feverand I'm going to give you something to drink before you go to sleep----"
He poured out a glass of water, dissolved two tablets, supported hershoulders while she drank in a dazed way, looking always at him over theglass.
"Now," he said, "go to sleep. I'll b on the job outside your door untilyour daddy arrives."
"How did you get back dad's money?" she asked in an odd, emotionless wayas though too weary for further surprises.
"I'll tell you in the morning."
"Did you kill him? I didn't hear your pistol."
"I'll tell you all about it in the morning. Good night, Eve."
As he bent over her, she looked up into his eyes and put both armsaround his neck.
It was her first kiss given to any man, except Mike Clinch.
After Stormont had gone out and closed the door, she lay very still fora long while.
Then, instinctively, she touched her lips with her fingers; and, at thatcontact, a blush clothed her from brow to ankle.
The Flaming Jewel in its morocco casket under her pillow burned with nopurer fire than the enchanted flame glowing in the virgin heart of EveStrayer of Clinch's Dump.
Thus they lay together, two lovely flaming jewels burning softly,steadily through the misty splendour of the night.
Under a million stars, Death sprawled in squalor among the trampledweeds. Under the same high stars dark mountains waited; and there was asilvery sound of waters stirring somewhere in the mist.
* * * * *
Episode Seven
Clinch's Dump
* * * * *
I
When Mike Clinch bade Hal Smith return to the Dump and take care of Eve,Smith already had decided to go there.
Somewhere in Clinch's Dump was hidden the Flaming Jewel. Now was histime to search for it.
There were two other reasons why he should go back. One of them wasthat Leverett was loose. If anything had called Trooper Stormont away,Eve would be alone in the house. And nobody on earth could forecastwhat a coward like Leverett might attempt.
But there was another and more serious reason for returning to Clinch's.Clinch, blood-mad, was headed for Drowned Valley with his men, to stopboth ends of that vast morass before Quintana and his gang could getout.
It was evident that neither Clinch nor any of his men -- although theirvery lives depended upon familiarity with the wilderness -- knew that athird exit from Drowned Valley existed.
But the nephew of the late Henry Harrod knew.
When Jake Kloon was a young man and Darragh was a boy, Kloon had shownhim the rocky, submerged game trail into Drowned Valley. DoubtlessKloon had used it in hootch running since. If ever he had told anybodyelse about it, probably he had revealed the trail to Quintana.
And that was why Darragh, or Hal Smith, finally decided to return toStar Pond; -- because if Quintana had been told or had discovered thatcircuitous way out of Drowned Valley, he might go straight to Clinch'sDump. ... And, supposing Stormont was still there, how long could oneState Trooper stand off Quintana's gang?
* * * * *
No sooner had Clinch and his motley followers disappeared in the duskthan Smith unslung his basket-pack, fished out a big electric torch,flashed it t
entatively, and then, reslinging the pack and taking hisrifle in his left hand, he set off at an easy swinging stride.
His course was not toward Star Pond; it was at right angles with thattrail. For he was taking no chances. Quintana might already have leftDrowned Valley by that third exit unknown to Clinch.
Smith's course would now cut this unmarked trail, trodden, only by gamethat left no sign in the shallow mountain rivulet which was the path.
The trail lay a long way off through the night. But if Quintana haddiscovered and taken that trail, it would be longer still for him --twice as long as the regular trail out.
For a mile or two the forest was first growth pine, and sufficientlyopen so that