CHAPTER IX
A CUP OF COFFEE
He was willing, after a long and bootless search, to confess tohimself that he would rather see Nan Morgan for one minute thanall women else in the world for a lifetime. The other incidents ofthe evening would have given any ordinary man enough food forreflection--indeed they did force de Spain to realize that his lifewould hang by a slender thread while he remained at Sleepy Cat andcontinued to brave the rulers of the Sinks.
But this danger, which after all was a portion of his responsibilityin freeing his stages from the depredations of the Calabasas gang,failed to make on him the moving impression of one moment of NanMorgan's eyes. She could upset him completely, he was forced to admit,by a glance, a word, a gesture--a mere turn of her head. There was inthe whole world nothing he wanted to do so much as in some way toplease her--yet it seemed his ill luck to get continually deeper intoher bad graces. It had so stunned and angered him to meet her intenton entering a gambling-hall that he was tormented the whole night.Association with outlaws--what might it not do for even such a girl?While her people were not all equally reprobate, some of them at leastwere not far better than the criminals of Calabasas. To conceive ofher gambling publicly in Sleepy Cat was too much. He had even taken ahorse, after cautiously but persistently haunting the streets for anhour, and ridden across the river away out on the mountain trail,hoping to catch a sight of her.
On his way back to town from this wild-goose chase, he heard the soundof hoofs. He was nearing the river and he turned his horse into aclump of trees beside the bridge. The night was very dark, but he wasclose to the trail and had made up his mind to speak to Nan if it wereshe. In another moment his ear told him there were two horsesapproaching. He waited for the couple to cross the bridge, and theypassed him so close he could almost have touched the nearer rider.Then he realized, as the horse passing beside him shied, that it wasSandusky and Logan riding silently by.
For a week de Spain spent most of his time in Sleepy Cat trying tocatch sight of Nan. His reflection on the untoward incidents that hadset them at variance left him rebellious. He meditated more aboutputting himself right with her than about all his remaining concernstogether. A strange fire had seized him--that fire of the imaginationwhich scorns fair words and fine reasoning, but which, smothered,burns in secret until, fanned by the wind of accident, it bursts outthe more fiercely because of the depths in which it has smouldered.
Every day that de Spain rode across the open country, his eyes turnedto the far range and to Music Mountain. The rounded, distant,immutable peak--majestic as the sun, cold as the stars, shrouding inits unknown fastnesses the mysteries of the ages and the secrets oftime--meant to him now only this mountain girl whom its solitudesheltered and to whom his thoughts continually came back.
Within two weeks he became desperate. He rode the Gap trail fromSleepy Cat again and again for miles and miles in the effort toencounter her. He came to know every ridge and hollow on it, everypatch and stone between the lava beds and the Rat River. And in spiteof the counsels of his associates, who warned him to beware of traps,he spent, under one pretext or another, much of the time either on thestages to and from Calabasas or in the saddle toward Morgan's Gap,looking for Nan.
Killing time in this way, after a fruitless ride, his persistence wasone day most unexpectedly rewarded at the Calabasas barns. He hadridden through a hot sun from Sleepy Cat, passing the up stagehalf-way to Calabasas, and had struck from there directly out onthe Sinks toward Morgan's Gap. Riding thence around the lower lavabeds, he had headed for Calabasas, where he had an appointment tomeet Scott and Lefever at five o'clock. When de Spain reached theCalabasas barn, McAlpin, the barn boss, was standing in thedoorway. "You'd never be comin' from Sleepy Cat in the saddle!"exclaimed McAlpin incredulously. De Spain nodded affirmatively as hedismounted. "Hot ride, sir; a hot day," commented McAlpin, shakinghis head dubiously as he called a man to take the horse, unstrappedde Spain's coat from the saddle, and followed the manager into theoffice.
The heat was oppressive, and de Spain unbuckled his cartridge-belt,slipped his revolver from the holster, mechanically stuck it insidehis trousers waistband, hung the heavy belt up under his coat, and,sitting down, called for the stage report and asked whether the newblacksmith had sobered up. When McAlpin had given him all minorinformation called for, de Spain walked with him out into the barn toinspect the horses. Passing the very last of the box-stalls, themanager saw in it a pony. He stopped. No second glance was needed totell him it was a good horse; then he realized that this wiry,sleek-legged roan, contentedly munching at the moment some companyhay, was Nan Morgan's.
McAlpin, talking volubly, essayed to move on, but de Spain, stubbornlypausing, only continued to look at the handsome saddle-horse. McAlpinsaw he was in for it, and resigned himself to an inquisition. When deSpain asked whose horse it was, McAlpin was ready. "That little ponyis Nan Morgan's, sir."
De Spain made no comment. "Good-looking pony, sir," ventured McAlpinhalf-heartedly.
"What's it doing here?" demanded de Spain coldly.
Before answering, the barn boss eyed de Spain very carefully to seehow the wind was setting, for the pony's presence confessed aninfraction of a very particular rule. "You see," he began, cocking athis strict boss from below his visorless cap a questioning Scotch eye,"I like to keep on good terms with that gang. Some of them can be veryugly. It's better to be friends with them when you can--by stretchingthe barn rules a little once in a while--than to have enemies of 'emall the time--don't you think so, sir?"
"What's her horse doing here?" asked de Spain, without commenting onthe long story, but also without showing, as far as the barnman coulddetect, any growing resentment at the infraction of his regulations.
McAlpin made even the most inconsequential approaches to a statementwith a keen and questioning glance. "The girl went up to the Cat onthe early stage, sir. She's coming back this afternoon."
"What is she riding away over here to Calabasas for to take the stage,instead of riding straight into Sleepy Cat?"
Once more McAlpin eyed him carefully. "The girl's been sick."
"Sick?"
"She ain't really fit to ride a step," confided the Scotch boss withgrowing confidence. "But she's been going up two or three times now toget some medicine from Doc Torpy--that's the way of it. There's a nicegirl, sir--in a bunch o' ruffians, I know--though old Duke, she liveswith, he ain't a half-bad man except for too many cards; I used towork for him--but I call her a nice girl. Do you happen to know her?"
De Spain had long been on guard. "I've spoken with her in a businessway one or twice, Jim. I can't really say I know her."
"Nice girl. But that's a tough bunch in that Gap, sure as you'realive; yes, sir."
De Spain was well aware the canny boss ought to know. McAlpin hadlived at one time in the Gap, and was himself reputed to have been ahardy and enduring rider on a night round-up.
"Anything sick, Jim?" asked de Spain, walking on down the barn andlooking at the horses. It was only the second time since he had givenhim the job that de Spain had called the barn boss "Jim," and McAlpinanswered with the rising assurance of one who realizes he is "in"right. "Not so much as a sore hoof in either alley, Mr. de Spain. Itry to take care of them, sir."
"What are we paying you, Jim?"
"Twenty-seven a week, sir; pretty heavy work at that."
"We'll try to make that thirty-two after this week."
McAlpin touched his cap. "Thank you kindly, sir, I'm sure. It costslike hell to live out here, Mr. de Spain."
"Lefever says you live off him at poker."
"Ha, ha! Ha, ha, sir! John will have his joke. He's always after me toplay poker with him--I don't like to do it. I've got a family tosupport--he ain't. But by and far, I don't think John and me is tendollars apart, year in and year out. Look at that bay, sir! A monthago Elpaso said that horse was all in--look at him now. I manage tokeep things up."
"What did you say," asked de Spain indifferently,
"had been the matterwith Nan Morgan?" Her name seemed a whole mouthful to speak, sofearful was he of betraying interest.
"Why, I really didn't say, sir. And I don't know. But from what shesays, and the way she coughs, I'm thinking it was a touch of thisp-new-monia that's going around so much lately, sir."
His listener recalled swiftly the days that had passed since the nighthe had seen her wet through in the cold rain at Sleepy Cat. He fearedJim's diagnosis might be right. And he had already made allarrangements to meet the occasion now presenting itself. Circumstancesseemed at last to favor him, and he looked at his watch. The downstage bringing Nan back would be due in less than an hour.
"Jim," he said thoughtfully, "you are doing the right thing in showingsome good-will toward the Morgans."
"Now, I'm glad you think that, sir."
"You know I unintentionally rubbed their backs the wrong way indragging Sassoon out."
"They're jealous of their power, I know--very jealous."
"This seems the chance to show that I have no real animosity myselftoward the outfit."
Since de Spain was not looking at him, McAlpin cocked two keen andcurious eyes on the sphinx-like birthmark of the very amiablespeaker's face. However, the astute boss, if he wondered, made nocomment. "When the stage comes in," continued de Spain quietly, "havethe two grays--Lady and Ben--hitched to my own light Studebaker. I'lldrive her over to the Gap myself."
"The very thing," exclaimed McAlpin, staring and struggling with hisbreath.
"In some way I've happened, both times I talked with her, to get inwrong--understand?" McAlpin, with clearing wits, nodded more thanonce. "No fault of mine; it just happened so. And she may not at firsttake kindly to the idea of going with me."
"I see."
"But she ought to do it. She will be tired--it's a long, dusty ridefor a well woman, let alone one that has been ill."
"So it is, so it is!"
De Spain looked now shamelessly at his ready-witted aid. "See that herpony is lame when she gets here--can't be ridden. But you'll take goodcare of him and send him home in a few days--get it?"
McAlpin half closed his eyes. "He'll be so lame it would stagger acowboy to back him ten feet--and never be hurt a mite, neither. Trustme!"
"No other horse that she could ride, in the barn?"
"No horse she could ride between Calabasas and Thief River."
"If she insists on riding _something_, or even walking home,"continued de Spain dubiously, for he felt instinctively that he shouldhave the task of his life to induce Nan to accept any kind of apeace-offering, "I'll ride or walk with her anyway. Can you sleep mehere to-night, on the hay?"
"Sleep you on a hair mattress, sir. You've got a room right hereup-stairs, didn't you know that?"
"Don't mind the bed," directed de Spain prudently. "I like the haybetter."
"As you like; we've got plenty of it fresh up-stairs, from the Gap.But the bed's all right, sir; it is, on me word."
With arrangements so begun, de Spain walked out-of-doors and lookedreflectively up the Sleepy Cat road. One further refinement in hisappeal for Nan's favor suggested itself. She would be hungry, possiblyfaint in the heat and dust, when she arrived. He returned to McAlpin:"Where can I get a good cup of coffee when the stage comes in?"
"Go right down to the inn, sir. It's a new chap running it--ahalf-witted man from Texas. My wife is cooking there off and on.She'll fix you up a sandwich and a cup of good coffee."
It was four o'clock, and the sun beat fiercely on the desert. De Spainwalked down to the inn unmindful of the heat. In summer rig, with hissoft-shirt collar turned under, his forearms bare, and his thoughtsengaged, he made his way rapidly on, looking neither to the right northe left.
As he approached the weather-beaten pile it looked no more inviting insunshine than it had looked in shadow; and true to its traditions, nota living being was anywhere to be seen. The door of the office stoodajar. De Spain, pushing it all the way open, walked in. No one greetedhim as he crossed the threshold, and the unsightly room was still bareof furnishings except for the great mahogany bar, with its two verylarge broken mirrors and the battered pilasters and carvings.
De Spain pounded on the bar. His effort to attract attention met withno response. He walked to the left end of the bar, lifted thehand-rail that enclosed the space behind it, and pushed open the doorbetween the mirrors leading to the back room. This, too, was empty. Hecalled out--there was no response. He walked through a second dooropening on an arcaded passageway toward the kitchen--not a soul was insight. There was a low fire in the kitchen stove, but Mrs. McAlpin hadapparently gone home for a while. Walking back toward the office, heremembered the covered way leading to a patio, which in turn opened onthe main road. He perceived also that at the end next the office thecovered way faced the window at the end of the long bar.
Irritated at the desertion of the place, due, he afterward learned, tothe heat of the afternoon, and disappointed at the frustration of hispurpose, he walked back through the rear room into the office. As helifted the hand-rail and, passing through, lowered it behind him, hetook out his watch to see how soon the stage was due. While he heldthe timepiece in his hand he heard a rapid clatter of hoofsapproaching the place. Thinking it might be Scott and Lefever arrivingfrom the south an hour ahead of time, he started toward the frontdoor--which was still open--to greet them. Outside, hurried footstepsreached the door just ahead of him and a large man, stepping quicklyinto the room, confronted de Spain. One of the man's hands restedlightly on his right side. De Spain recognized him instantly; thesmall, drooping head, carried well forward, the keen eyes, the longhand, and, had there still been a question in his mind, theloud-patterned, shabby waistcoat would have proclaimed beyonddoubt--Deaf Sandusky.
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