by Rex Beach
XXIV
DAVE LAW COMES HOME
A few days after she had written to Judge Ellsworth Alaire followed herletter in person, for, having at last decided to divorce Ed, she actedwith characteristic decision. Since Ellsworth had more than onceadvised this very course, she went to Brownsville anticipating hiswilling support. She was greatly amazed, therefore, to find that he hadcompletely changed his views and to hear him argue strongly against herdetermination. Hurt and puzzled at first by this strange lack ofsympathy, Alaire soon began to grow angry, and when the judge persistedin his arguments she quarreled with him for the first time in theiracquaintance. But it was not until she had threatened to secure anotherattorney that he reluctantly gave in, even then making it plain that inmeeting her wishes he was acting against his best judgment.
Now Alaire had desired Ellsworth's advice, also, as to her ownimmediate plans, since it was of course impossible for her longer toshare Ed's roof. She had written Dave Law, telling him that sheintended to go to La Feria, there to remain pending the hearing of hersuit; but later she had come to doubt the wisdom of such a course,inasmuch as the war talk grew louder with every day. However, herattorney's inexplicable change of front and his stubborn opposition toher wishes prevented her from confiding in him any more than wasnecessary, and she returned to Las Palmas determined to use her ownbest judgment. To be sure, she would have preferred some place ofrefuge other than La Feria, but she reasoned that there she would atleast be undisturbed, and that Ed, even if he wished to effect areconciliation, would not dare to follow her, since he was persona nongrata in Federal Mexico. Nor were her doubts of Ellsworth's loyaltyentirely allayed. All in all, therefore, it seemed to her that theMexican ranch offered her the safest asylum.
She had counted upon seeing Dave during her stay in Brownsville, andher failure to do so was a grave disappointment. The news of hisresignation from the Force had at first perplexed her; then she hadthrilled at the thought that his action must have something to do withher; that doubtless he, too, was busied in making plans for their newlife. She told herself that it was brave of him to obey her injunctionsso literally and to leave her unembarrassed by his presence at thisparticular time. It inspired her to be equally brave and to waitpatiently for the day when she could welcome him with clean hands and asoul unashamed.
In the midst of Alaire's uncertainty of mind it gratified her torealize that Dave alone would know of her whereabouts. She wondered ifhe would come to see her. He was a reckless, headstrong lover, and hisdesires were all too likely to overcome his deliberate resolves. Sherather hoped that in spite of his promise he would venture to cross theborder so that she could see and be near him, if only for a day or foran hour. The possibility frightened and yet pleased her. Theconventional woman within her frowned, but her outlaw heart beat fastat the thought.
Alaire did not explain her plans even to Dolores, but when herpreparations were complete she took the Mexican woman with her, andduring Ed's absence slipped away from the ranch. Boarding the train atJonesville, she was in Pueblo that night.
If Alaire's clash with Ellsworth had been trying to her, it had been noless painful to the lawyer himself. Feeling himself bound by hispromise to Dave, he had not dared to tell her the truth; consequentlyhe had been hard put to it to dissuade her from taking immediateaction. When she would not listen, he found himself in the mostunpleasant position of his life; for although he could not butsympathize with her desire to be free from Ed Austin, it distressed himbeyond measure to see her riding blindly to a fall. More than onceafter their strained parting he was tempted to go to Las Palmas and sethimself right in her eyes; but he managed to hold to his determinationand to school himself to await Dave's return.
Before long, however, Ellsworth found other worries engaging him, forit seemed at last that war with Mexico was imminent. After months ofuncertainty the question had come to issue, and that lowering cloudwhich had hung above the horizon took ominous shape and size. Ellsworthawoke one morning to learn that an ultimatum had gone forth toPresident Potosi; that the Atlantic fleet had been ordered south; andthat marines were being rushed aboard transports pending a general armymobilization. It looked as if the United States had finally risen inwrath, and as if nothing less than a miracle could now avert thelong-expected conflict.
Naturally Brownsville, like other border towns, was plunged into apanic, and Ellsworth, as a leading citizen of his community, had hishands full.
In the midst of this excitement, and while suspense was at its highest,Dave Law returned. Ellsworth found him in his office one morning andfell upon the young man eagerly. Two weeks had worked a shocking changein Dave; he was gaunt, ill; his eyes were bright and tired andfeverish. They had a new expression, too, which the judge at firstcould not fathom, but which he took to be fear. Dave's brown cheeks hadbleached; his hands hung loose and unmanageable at his sides.
"I've had a long trip," he said, somberly, "months--years long, itseems to me."
"Well, thank God you're back. Tell me, what did you find out?"
Law closed his eyes wearily. He shook his head. "Nothing exceptverification. I'm sorry I went. The Law blood is tainted, all right--itreeks. The whole damned outfit were crazy. On my mother's side, though,I'm healthy enough--and there appears to be some mystery or somethingqueer about me as a baby. That's all I've discovered so far. But I've arelative in San Antone, a cousin of my mother's, who runs acurio-store. He deals in Mexican jewelry and antiques, and allthat--strange old fellow. He says he has a trunkful of stuff thatbelonged to his family, and he has promised to go through it for me."
"Then you still hope to prove--"
"I haven't any hope. I've given up."
"Why?" Ellsworth asked, sharply.
"Because I know the truth. Because I'm--going crazy. Fact! I can see itmyself now."
"Why, boy, that's imagination, nothing else."
"Perhaps," Dave agreed, listlessly. "I'm reading everything on thesubject of insanity that I can get hold of."
Ellsworth tried to laugh. "That in itself is enough to unbalance you."
"I'm moody, depressed; I'm getting so I imagine things. By and by I'llbegin to think I'm persecuted--I believe that's how it works. Already Ihave hallucinations in broad daylight, and I'm afraid of the dark.Fancy! I don't sleep very often, and when I do I wake up in a puddle ofsweat, shivering. And dreams! God, what dreams! I know they're dreams,now, but sooner or later I suppose I'll begin to believe in 'em." Davesighed and settled lower in his chair. "I--I'm mighty tired."
Ellsworth clapped him on the back. "Come, now! A perfectly healthy mancould wreck his reason this way. You must stop it. You must dosomething to occupy your mind."
"Sure. That's what brings me home. I'm going to the front."
"To the war?"
"Yes. They're recruiting a rough-rider regiment in San Antone. I joinedyesterday, and I've come to get my horse."
After a time Ellsworth said, "Alaire has commenced her action." Davetook a deep, sharp breath and began to tremble weakly. "I didn't tellher, but--you must. We can't go on like this."
"Suppose I just go to war and--and don't come back?" thickly inquiredthe sufferer.
"That won't do. You won't get killed--fellows like you never do.Wouldn't you rather have her know the truth than believe you to be aquitter?" Ellsworth waited a minute. "Do you want me to tell her foryou, Dave?"
Law shook his head slowly, wearily. "No, I'll do it. I'm game. I'drather she heard it from me."
Blaze Jones took the San Antonio paper out upon the porch and composedhimself in the hammock to read the latest war news. Invasion! Troops!The Stars and Stripes! Those were words that stirred Jones deeply andcaused him to neglect his work. Now that his country had fully awakenedto the necessity of a war with Mexico--a necessity he had long felt--hewas fired with the loftiest patriotism and a youthful eagerness toenlist. Blaze realized that he was old and fat and near-sighted; butwhat of that? He could fight. Fighting, in fact, had been one of hisearliest accompli
shments, and he prided himself upon knowing as muchabout it as any one man could learn. He believed in fighting both as aprinciple and as an exercise; in fact, he attributed his good health tohis various neighborly "unpleasantnesses," and he had more than onceargued that no great fighter ever died of a sluggish liver or of anyone of the other ills that beset sedentary, peace-loving people.Nations were like men--too much ease made them flabby. And Blaze hadhis own ideas of strategy, too. So during the perusal of his paper hebemoaned the mistakes his government was making. Why waste time withultimatums? he argued to himself. He had never done so. Experience hadtaught him that the way to win a battle was to beat the other fellow tothe draw; hence this diplomatic procrastination filled him withimpatience. It seemed almost treasonable to one of Blaze's intensepatriotism.
He was engaged in laying out a plan of campaign for the United Stateswhen he became conscious of voices behind him, and realized that forsome time Paloma had been entertaining a caller in the front room.Their conversation had not disturbed him at first, but now anoccasional word or sentence forced its meaning through hispreoccupation, and he found himself listening.
Paloma's visitor was a woman, and as Blaze harkened to her voice, hefelt his heart sink. It was Mrs. Strange. She was here again. Withdifficulty Blaze conquered an impulse to flee, for she was recounting astory all too familiar to him.
"Why, it seemed as if the whole city of Galveston was there, and yetnobody offered to help us," the dressmaker was saying. "Phil was aperfect hero, for the ruffian was twice his size. Oh, it was an awfulfight! I hate to think of it."
"What made him pinch you?" Paloma inquired.
"Heaven only knows. Some men are dreadful that way. Why, he left ablack-and-blue mark!"
Blaze broke into a cold sweat and cursed feebly under his breath.
"He wasn't drunk, either. He was just naturally depraved. You could seeit in his face."
"How DID you escape?"
"Well, I'll tell you. We chased him up across the boulevard and inamong the tents, and then--" Mrs. Strange lowered her voice until onlya murmur reached the listening man. A moment, then both women burstinto shrill, excited laughter, and Blaze himself blushed furiously.
This was unbearable! It was bad enough to have that woman inJonesville, a constant menace to his good name, but to allow her accessto his own home was unthinkable. Sooner or later they were bound tomeet, and then Paloma would learn the disgraceful truth--yes, and thewhole neighborhood would likewise know his shame. In fancy, Blaze sawhis reputation torn to shreds and himself exposed to the gibes of thepeople who venerated him. He would become a scandal among men, anoffense to respectable women; children would shun him. Blaze could notbear to think of the consequences, for he was very fond of the womenand children of Jonesville, especially the women. He rose from hishammock and tiptoed down the porch into the kitchen, from which pointof security he called loudly for his daughter.
Alarmed at his tone, Paloma came running. "What is the matter?" sheasked, quickly.
"Get her out!" Blaze cried, savagely. "Get shed of her."
"Her? Who?"
"That varmint."
"Father, what ails you?"
"Nothin' ails me, but I don't want that caterpillar crawlin' around mypremises. I don't like her."
Paloma regarded her parent curiously. "How do you know you don't likeher when you've never seen her?"
"Oh, I've seen her, all I want to; and I heard her talkin' to you justnow. I won't stand for nobody tellin' you--bad stories."
Paloma snickered. "The idea! She doesn't--"
"Get her out, and keep her out," Blaze rumbled. "She ain't right; sheain't--human. Why, what d'you reckon I saw her do, the other day? Makesme shiver now. You remember that big bull-snake that lives under thebarn, the one I've been layin' for? Well, you won't believe me, but himand her are friends. Fact! I saw her pick him up and play with him.WHO-EE! The goose-flesh popped out on me till it busted the buttons offmy vest. She ain't my kind of people, Paloma. 'Strange' ain't no namefor her; no, sir! That woman's dam' near peculiar."
Paloma remained unmoved. "I thought you knew. She used to be asnake-charmer."
"A--WHAT?" There was no doubt about it. Blaze's hair lifted. He blinkedthrough his big spectacles; he pawed the air feebly with his hands."How can you let her touch you? I couldn't. I'll bet she carries apocketful of dried toads and--and keeps live lizards in her hair. Iknew an old voodoo woman that ate cockroaches. Get shed of her, Paloma,and we'll fumigate the house."
At that moment Mrs. Strange herself opened the kitchen door to inquire,"Is anything wrong?" Misreading Blaze's expression for one of pain, sheexclaimed: "Mercy! Now, what have you done to yourself?"
But the object of her solicitude backed away, making peculiar cluckingsounds deep in his throat. Paloma was saying:
"This is my father, Mrs. Strange. You and he have never happened tomeet before."
"Why, yes we have! I know you," the seamstress exclaimed. Then apuzzled light flickered in her black eyes. "Seems to me we've metsomewhere, but--I've met so many people." She extended her hand, andBlaze took it as if expecting to find it cold and scaly. He mutteredsomething unintelligible. "I've been dying to see you," she told him,"and thank you for giving me Paloma's work. I love you both for it."
Blaze was immensely relieved that this dreaded crisis had come andgone; but wishing to make assurance doubly sure, he contorted hisfeatures into a smile the like of which his daughter had never seen,and in a disguised voice inquired, "Now where do you reckon you eversaw me?"
The seamstress shook her head. "I don't know, but I'll place you beforelong. Anyhow, I'm glad you aren't hurt. From the way you called PalomaI thought you were. I'm handy around sick people, so I--"
"Listen!" Paloma interrupted. "There's some one at the front door." Sheleft the room; Blaze was edging after her when he heard her utter astifled scream and call his name.
Now Paloma was not the kind of girl to scream without cause, and hercry brought Blaze to the front of the house at a run. But what he sawthere reassured him momentarily; nothing was in sight more alarmingthan one of the depot hacks, in the rear seat of which was huddled thefigure of a man. Paloma was flying down the walk toward the gate, andPhil Strange was waiting on the porch. As Blaze flung himself into viewthe latter explained:
"I brought him straight here, Mr. Jones, 'cause I knew you was his bestfriend."
"Who? Who is it?"
"Dave Law. He must have came in on the noon train. Anyhow, I foundhim--like that." The two men hurried toward the road, side by side.
"What's wrong with him?" Blaze demanded.
"I don't know. He's queer--he's off his bean. I've had a hard time withhim."
Paloma was in the carriage at Dave's side now, and calling his name;but Law, it seemed, was scarcely conscious. He had slumped together;his face was vacant, his eyes dull. He was muttering to himself aqueer, delirious jumble of words.
"Oh, Dad! He's sick--sick," Paloma sobbed. "Dave, don't you know us?You're home, Dave. Everything is--all right now."
"Why, you'd hardly recognize the boy!" Blaze exclaimed; then he addedhis appeal to his daughter's. But they could not arouse the sick manfrom his coma.
"He asked me to take him to Las Palmas," Strange explained. "Looks tome like a sunstroke. You'd ought to hear him rave when he gets started."
Paloma turned an agonized face to her father. "Get a doctor, quick,"she implored; "he frightens me."
But Mrs. Strange had followed, and now she spoke up in a matter-of-facttone: "Doctor nothing," she said. "I know more than all the doctors.Paloma, you go into the house and get a bed ready for him, and you menlug him in. Come, now, on the run, all of you! I'll show you what todo." She took instant charge of the situation, and when Dave refused toleave the carriage and began to fight off his friends, gabbling wildly,it was she who quieted him. Elbowing Blaze and her husband out of theway, she loosed the young man's frenzied clutch from the carriage and,holding his hands in hers, talked to him i
n such a way that hegradually relaxed. It was she who helped him out and then supported himinto the house. It was she who got him up-stairs and into bed, and itwas she who finally stilled his babble.
"The poor man is burning up with a fever," she told the others, "andfevers are my long suit. Get me some towels and a lot of ice."
Blaze, who had watched the snake-charmer's deft ministrations withmingled amazement and suspicion, inquired: "What are you going to dowith ice? Ice ain't medicine."
"I'm going to pack his head in it."
"God'l'mighty!" Blaze was horrified. "Do you want to freeze his brain?"
Mrs. Strange turned on him angrily. "You get out of my way and mindyour own business. 'Freeze his brain!'" With a sniff of indignation shepushed past the interloper.
But Blaze was waiting for her when she returned a few moments laterwith bowls and bottles and various remedies which she had commandeered.He summoned sufficient courage to block her way and inquire:
"What you got there, now, ma'am?"
Mrs. Strange glared at him balefully. With an effort at patience sheinquired: "Say! What ails you, anyhow?"
Jones swallowed hard. "Understand, he's a friend of mine. No damnedmagic goes."
"Magic?"
"No--cockroaches or snakes' tongues, or--"
Mrs. Strange fingered a heavy china bowl as if tempted to bounce itfrom Blaze's head. Then, not deigning to argue, she whisked past himand into the sick-room. It was evident from her expression that sheconsidered the master of the house a harmless but offensive oldbusybody.
For some time longer Blaze hung about the sick-room; then, his presencebeing completely ignored, he risked further antagonism by telephoningfor Jonesville's leading doctor. Not finding the physician at home, hesneaked out to the barn and, taking Paloma's car, drove away in searchof him. It was fully two hours later when he returned to discover thatDave was sleeping quietly.
