A fragment of candle, stuck tightly into the neck of an empty bottle,appeared on a low shelf, and Keith lighted it, the girl returning thelamp to its former position on the front room table. Investigationrevealed a dozen cartridges fitting the revolver, but no ammunitionwas discovered adapted to the sawed-off gun, which Neb had alreadyappropriated, and was dragging about with him, peering into each blackcorner in anxious search. The two were still busily employed at this,when to their ears, through the stillness of the night, there came theunexpected noise of splashing in the water without, and then the soundof a horse stumbling as he struck the bank. Quick as a flash Keithclosed the intervening door, extinguished the dim flame of the candle,and grasping the startled negro's arm, hushed him into silence.
Crouching close behind the door, through a crack of which the lightstreamed, yielding slight view of the interior, the plainsman anxiouslyawaited developments. These arrivals must certainly be some of thoseconnected with the house; there could be little doubt as to that.Nevertheless, they might prove the posse following them, who had chancedto stumble accidentally on their retreat. In either case they couldmerely wait, and learn. Some one swore without, and was sharply rebukedby another voice, which added an order gruffly. Then the outer latchclicked, and a single man stepped within, immediately closing the door.Keith could not see the girl through the small aperture, but he heardher quick exclamation, startled, yet full of relief.
"Oh, is it you? I am so glad!"
The man laughed lightly.
"It is nice to be welcomed, although, perhaps, after your time ofloneliness any arrival would prove a relief. Did you think I was nevercoming, Christie?"
"I could not understand," she replied, evidently with much lessenthusiasm, and to Keith's thinking, a shade resentful of thefamiliarity, "but naturally supposed you must be unexpectedly delayed."
"Well, I was," and he apparently flung both coat and hat on a bench,with the intention of remaining, "The marshal arrested a fellow fora murder committed out on the Santa Fe Trail, and required me as awitness. But the man got away before we had any chance to try him, and Ihave been on his trail ever since."
"A murder! Did you imagine he came this way?"
"Not very likely; fact of it is, the sand storm yesterday destroyed alltraces, and, as a result, we've lost him. So I headed a few of the boysover in this direction, as I wanted to relieve you of anxiety."
She was silent an instant, and the man crossed to the fireplace, whereKeith could gain a glimpse of him. Already suspicious from the familiarsound of his voice, he was not surprised to recognize "Black Bart." Theplainsman's fingers gripped the negro's arm, his eyes burning. So thisgambler and blackleg was the gentlemanly Mr. Hawley, was he; well, whatcould be his little game? Why had he inveigled the girl into this lonelyspot? And what did he now propose doing with her? As he crouched there,peering through that convenient crack in the door, Keith completelyforgot his own peril, intent only upon this new discovery. She cameslowly around the end of the table, and stood leaning against it, herface clearly revealed in the light of the lamp. For the first timeKeith really perceived its beauty, its fresh charm. Could such as shebe singer and dancer in a frontier concert hall? And if so, what strangeconditions ever drove her into that sort of life?
"Is--is Fred with you?" she questioned, doubtfully.
"No; he's with another party riding farther west," the man's eyessurveying her with manifest approval. "You are certainly looking fineto-night, my girl. It's difficult to understand how I ever managed tokeep away from you so long."
She flushed to the hair, her lips trembling at the open boldness of histone.
"I--I prefer you would not speak like that," she protested.
"And why not?" with a light laugh. "Come, Christie, such fine airs are atrifle out of place. If I didn't know you were a concert hall artist,I might be more deeply impressed. As it is, I reckon you've heard lovewords before now."
"Mr. Hawley, I have trusted you as a gentleman. I never came here excepton your promise to bring me to my brother," and she stood erect beforehim. "You have no right to even assume that I am Christie Maclaire."
"Sure not; I don't assume. I have seen that lady too often to bemistaken. Don't try on that sort of thing with me--I don't take to itkindly. Perhaps a kiss might put you in better humor."
He took a step forward, as though proposing to carry out his threat, butthe girl stopped him, her eyes burning with indignation.
"How dare you!" she exclaimed passionately, all fear leaving her insudden resentment. "You think me alone here and helpless; that you caninsult me at your pleasure. Don't go too far, Mr. Hawley. I know whatyou are now, and it makes no difference what you may think of me, orcall me; you 'll find me perfectly able to defend myself."
"Oh, indeed!" sneeringly, "you are melodramatic; you should have been anactress instead of a singer. But you waste your talent out here on me.Do you imagine I fear either you, or your precious brother? Why, I couldhave him hung to-morrow."
She was staring at him with wide open eyes, her face white.
"What--what do you mean? What has Fred done?"
He was cold and sarcastic.
"That makes no difference; it is what I could induce men to swear he haddone. It's easy enough to convict in this country, if you only know how.I simply tell you this, so you won't press me too hard. Puritanismis out of place west of the Missouri, especially among ladies of yourprofession. Oh, come, now, Christie, don't try to put such airs on withme. I know who you are, all right, and can guess why you are huntingafter Fred Willoughby. I pumped the boy, and got most of the truth outof him."
"You--you have seen him, then, since you left me," she faltered,bewildered, "and didn't bring him here with you?"
"Why should I?" and the man stepped forward, his eyes on her, his handstwitching with a desire to clasp her to him, yet restrained by someundefinable power. "While I believed your brother story, I could haveplayed the good Samaritan most beautifully, but after I talked withWilloughby I prefer him at a distance."
"My brother story! Do you mean to insinuate you doubt his being mybrother? He told you that?"
"He gave up the whole trick. You can't trust a kid like that, Christie.A couple of drinks will loosen his tongue, and put you in wrong. Come,now, I know it all; be reasonable."
Apparently the girl had lost her power of speech, staring blindly atthe face of the man before her, as a bird meets the slow approach ofa snake. Keith could see her lips move, but making no sound. Hawleyevidently interpreted her silence as hesitation, doubt as to his realmeaning.
"You see where you are at now, Christie," he went on swiftly. "But youdon't need to be afraid. I'm going to be a friend to you, and you canbe mighty glad you got rid of Willoughby so easily. Why, I can buy youdiamonds where he couldn't give you a calico dress. Come on, let's stopthis foolishness. I took a liking to you back there in the stage, andthe more I've thought about you since the crazier I've got. When Isucceeded in pumping Willoughby dry, and discovered you wasn't hissister at all, why that settled the matter. I came down here after you.I love you, do you understand that? And, what's more, I intend to haveyou!"
He reached out, and actually grasped her, but, in some manner, she toreloose, and sprang back around the end of the table, her cheeks flushed,her eyes burning.
"Don't touch me! don't dare touch me!" she panted. "You lie; FredWilloughby never told you that. If you come one step nearer, I'llscream; I'll call your men here; I'll tell them the kind of a cur youare."
He laughed, leaning over toward her, yet hesitating, his eyes full ofadmiration. Her very fierceness appealed to him, urged him on.
"Oh, I wouldn't! In the first place they probably wouldn't hear, forthey are camped down in the corral. I suspected you might be somethingof a tigress, and preferred to fight it out with you alone. Then, evenif they did hear, there would be no interference--I've got those fellowstrained too well for that. Come on, Christie; you're helpless here."
"Am I?"
/> "Yes, you are."
He took a step toward her, his hands flung out. With one quick movementshe sprang aside and extinguished the lamp, plunging the room intoinstant darkness. A few red coals glowed dully in the fireplace, butall else was dense blackness. Keith heard the movements of Hawley, as hefelt his way uncertainly along the table, swearing as he failed to findthe girl. Then, like a shadow, he glided through the partly open doorinto the room.
Chapter XI. The Fight in the Dark
Keith of the Border: A Tale of the Plains Page 10
