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Rogue River Feud

Page 23

by Zane Grey


  “Gosh!” he exploded.

  “That was nothing,” replied the other cheerfully. “Wait till I tackle that bone.” He repaired to his laboratory and presently returned with a plaster cast of the missing section of Keven’s jaw. Over this he fitted soft wax and built it up. “I want to be careful to get the former fullness of your lip and the line of your cheek. You won’t know yourself when it’s done.” He set the wax impression in place and bade Keven bite down naturally upon it. Then, with Keven’s teeth, set, the dentist rounded and trimmed the wax so that it filled out the flat and waving line of jaw which had been so hideous to Keven.

  “This is like taking candy from the baby,” said the dentist. “It’s going to be easy to fix you up…. But now for the hell.”

  Cocaine helped some, but in spite of it Keven searched again the very depths of agony. The dentist feared necrosis. He bared the raw bone and scraped it. Blood flowed like water. He scraped and he dug and he chipped. Then he burned bone and tissue with something like fire. Lastly he packed and dressed the wounds. “Only one more treatment like that. Then we’re okay. Come tomorrow.”

  It was a wobbling, clammy-faced Keven that returned to Beryl.

  “Oh, Kev, you’ve been hurt,” she exclaimed anxiously.

  “Hurt! Ump-umm! I’m only killed…. Beryl, that kick from the old cannon was nothing to what this kind gentle dentist did to me.”

  “Mrs. Bell, it was something of an operation, I admit,” said the dentist. “But it was necessary. When it’s over he’ll be amply repaid.”

  Keven and Beryl went back to their hotel and stayed in for several hours, until his pain had ceased; then they went shopping. Beryl insisted on a complete new outfit for Keven. Protest was useless. He gave in despite misgivings as to Beryl’s leaning toward extravagance. The well-tailored gray suit and accessories would be delivered to their hotel the following day. They still had an hour to look for something for Beryl. At the very outset this bade fair to be a stupendous task. The saleswoman, after the keen observance of her kind, brought forth gowns that dazzled Keven. But Beryl, though admitting their elegance, showed no disposition to try one of them on.

  “But, darling, this must be an evening gown, or at least, something terribly nifty. It’s to knock ’em dead in Grant’s Pass,” entreated Keven.

  “Honey, I—I couldn’t wear a dress with no top or sleeves in it,” protested Beryl.

  “Sure, you could. Why not?”

  “It’s indecent.”

  “Gosh! Well, maybe it is, but what do we care? If I can stand it, you ought to. You’ve got the loveliest neck and arms of any girl in the whole world. I’ll be divided between pride and jealousy…. Beryl, please try on that shiny gold dress. Just to let me see how you look!”

  “That one! Kev, there’s not enough of it to cover half of me.”

  “Please try it on.”

  The saleswoman returned with more glittering fabrics. Beryl took up the shimmering gold thing and asked to try it on. She went away with the pleased saleswoman. Keven sat down, once more aware of the deep-seated throb in his jaw. He waited for what appeared a good while, and almost grew impatient. Then a vision glided into sight.

  The vision turned out to be his own wife. Keven stared incredulously. Yes, this was Beryl. But so vastly transformed.

  “Isn’t she lovely, sir?” asked the saleswoman excitedly. “This gold suits her coloring.”

  “Kev, I tried it on—just to please you. But of course I—I couldn’t take it,” murmured Beryl.

  “You’re a queen!” he exploded.

  “Do you—like me—in it?” she asked, and it was evident that his compliment accounted for her heightened color.

  “Like you? Heavens!” And Keven found mere words inadequate.

  “Kev, would you—buy it for me, if I would take it?” asked Beryl, quite composedly, with bright thoughtful eyes on his. “It’s eighty-seven dollars. And slippers, stockings, etc., would fetch the cost to a hundred and over.”

  Keven never flinched. This was his wonderful bride, for whom nothing was too good. His mere gesture repudiated the idea of cost.

  “Well, I’ll think it over and call tomorrow,” said Beryl to the saleswoman. “It’s too late to try on another today.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  EXCEPT for the few trying hours in the dentist’s chair the next few days were nothing less than enchantment for Keven Bell. The truth was that Beryl’s unalloyed happiness seemed to substantiate facts which otherwise Keven could not have accepted. He took her everywhere, even to see a famed trout stream near the city. He quite forgot to be careful with money, and certainly Beryl did not help him to remember. Still she had not yet bought the dress that was to dazzle Keven’s former friends and acquaintances of Grant’s Pass.

  He stopped at the oculist’s office to pick up the new glasses. The happy moment when he first put them on came. Keven, hardly taking time to thank the oculist, rushed out to confront Beryl, unmindful of other people present in the waiting room.

  “Beryl, that blank black place is gone!” he cried gleefully.

  “Oh, splendid! How nice you look!”

  The dental work, too, was completed at last. The artificial jaw and teeth of gold, platinum, and porcelain were inserted and felt comfortable. Keven ran his hand round his chin. Then he looked in the mirror an assistant held before him. He could not believe his eyes. Following the first flash of astonishment and delight, he thought of Beryl.

  “Fine and dandy, Doc!” he ejaculated. “You’ve made a new man out of me. Gosh, I couldn’t thank you if I tried. Hand over your bill now, quick. I’ve got to rustle back to the hotel. This job will sure please a little lady I know.”

  When Keven paid the bill he had only a few dollars left, but such was his state of elation that for the moment he did not even think of money. He rushed back to Beryl.

  “It’s done…. I’m all through…. What do you—think?” he panted, posing for her.

  Beryl dropped whatever it was on her lap, and leaped up, her eyes glad.

  “Kev! … Oh, you handsome man! I—I hardly know you. To think it would make such a difference! … I’m just too happy for words.”

  “Gosh, so’m I. But wait till I tell——”

  She gave a little squeal and almost climbed on him, and kissed his chin, and the new line of his jaw, and lastly his lips in an abandon wholly unusual with her.

  “There! I have been saving that,” she whispered.

  “Lord, but I love you, Beryl!” he cried, giving her an enormous hug. Then he added ruefully: “But listen, honey. It’s great for us—to mend me up this way so I’m not ashamed for anyone to see you with me. But it took all the money we had left. Except this…. Three dollars.”

  “Oh,” returned Beryl, not particularly impressed.

  “Darling, you’re a woman, all right. Money cuts no ice with you. But I’m darned sick. How’ll I pay the hotel bill? Fortunately I had sense enough to buy round-trip railroad tickets…. We can’t go to Grant’s Pass. That is a disappointment. And the peach of an outfit for you! I did so want that…. Damn the luck!”

  “Kev, are you swearing at me?” she asked demurely.

  “No. I—I suppose I ought to thank God you’re so good, so reasonable, so unselfish. It’s all been so lucky for me. But I wanted something grand for you—I wanted it!”

  He turned away so that she would not see the tears in his eyes.

  “Honey, do you feel very badly?” she asked sweetly.

  “Rotten! I’d rather you had the dress. Why didn’t I make you buy it? The doctor would have trusted me.”

  “Look on the bed,” said Beryl softly.

  In surprise Keven turned as bidden. The bed appeared to be loaded down with a bewildering array of finery, in the midst of which shone the lacy golden gown he had so admired. He espied slippers and stockings to match. Then there was a blue traveling dress, a small blue hat, and gloves and shoes. And underneath all these shone silk lingerie.

/>   “Isn’t it lovely?” she asked innocently.

  “Good heavens! Beryl, you didn’t go in debt for all this stuff?”

  “No. I—just bought it.”

  “Bought it! What with?”

  “Well, naturally, it had to be done with money.”

  Keven sat down stunned. She looked so sweet and so pleased with the effect of her surprise.

  “How much did all this cost?”

  “I haven’t figured up yet.”

  “Where’d you get the money? … Did your father give you more besides the wedding present, which, by the way, I spent on myself?”

  “No. Dad gave me only the hundred dollars, which you had.”

  “Well, sweetheart, I hope you didn’t rob a bank.”

  “I’ve had the money for a long time, Keven…. And I reckon I’d better give you what’s left.” Whereupon she extracted a roll of bills from her bag and handed it to Keven. “Don’t look so scared, darling. It was honestly mine, and what’s mine is yours.”

  “Thank you, Beryl,” replied Keven huskily. “Was this a—a legacy?”

  “Hardly,” she said mysteriously.

  “Did you work for this, too?”

  “I suppose you’d say I worked Dad for it. Anyway I’ve saved it, a little at a time, during the four years you stayed away from me. I thought it might come in handy sometime. And it surely did. Behold my trousseau! And we’re going to Grant’s Pass.”

  “Oh, we are…. Is this all the money you had?”

  “No, I’ve still enough left to buy you a rifle and the best fishing tackle to be had…. I wish you’d let me surprise you with them.”

  Keven counted the money she had placed in his hands. Nearly five hundred dollars!

  “You see, Kev dear, we don’t get married often. And we need a lot of things for our cabin. I plan to buy these at Grant’s Pass and have them shipped to West Fork, where we can have them packed over to Solitude.”

  “By gosh! … I’m glad—I guess—but I’m sure flabbergasted,” rejoined Keven, sitting down as if his legs had become weak.

  “You guess? … Kev, I never knew any man would guess about feeling glad his wife had saved a little money.”

  “It is kind of churlish in me. Doggone it! … But I’m stumped.”

  What more he was besides being stumped he did not say. All he was sure of was that he was an extraordinarily fortunate young man. Once again he glanced at the finery on the bed.

  “Beryl, you have excellent taste.”

  “I’d rather have a few really good things than a lot of shoddy stuff…. As for the gold gown—that’s for you. If only I can screw up courage to wear it! Perhaps I can.”

  “You bet you will…. Say. Beryl, what are you going to pack all this gorgeous stuff in?”

  “I haven’t had time yet to look for anything. A couple of strong grips might do.”

  “I think two of those heavy telescope cases with straps. They’re nothing much for looks. But they’ll stand packing across the mountains. Suppose I run out and buy a couple?”

  “Do. While I begin to pack.”

  “I’ll see about trains, too. We’ll leave for Grant’s Pass tonight.”

  “Oh, goody!” cried Beryl, clapping her hands like a child.

  “It may not be so goody as I’d fondly hoped,” returned Keven ponderingly. “I’d forgot about my arrest at Gold Beach.”

  “Arrest! You weren’t explicit about that.”

  “I’m afraid there are a lot of things I never told you.”

  “What were you arrested for?” she queried, anxious dark eyes on him.

  “Assault on Gus Atwell. I did tell you I punched him, for I distinctly remember you were very pleased…. Well, the sheriff at Gold Beach turned out a friend of mine. He wouldn’t let them take me to Grant’s Pass for trial. And the case was dropped.”

  “You think it might come up again if we go to Grant’s Pass?”

  “It probably would. But I believe we’ll go anyhow. Beryl, I’m a different man now. I don’t feel that I can let Atwell’s enmity keep me away from my home town. I am innocent of what Atwell laid at my door. All I did was to knock him down. I don’t believe I’d care if the case did come up again.”

  “I wouldn’t, either…. But it never will, Kev, darling,” she said, with one of her dazzling enigmatic smiles.

  “Never? How do you know?”

  “Well, it never will if you take me to Grant’s Pass.”

  “Of course I’ll take you. That’s the main reason why I want to go. But what will that have to do with the possibility of my arrest?”

  “Kev, when Major Atwell sees me with you—that will be the end of his persecution of you.”

  “Indeed!” ejaculated Keven, almost stiffly. Just then Beryl reminded him of her father. Perhaps it was the Indian in her. She looked strong, resourceful, aloof. What a friend—what an enemy she would make!

  “I’m pretty sure of it,” she returned.

  “May I ask why?”

  “I know too much about Major Atwell.”

  “You mean the—the personal attentions he tried to force upon you, while you were at school in Roseburg?”

  “No. That was nothing. To be sure he tried, but after that one time he saw me with Emily Carstone. And you bet he sneaked.”

  “Emily Carstone! Who’s she?” exclaimed Keven, in a queer tone.

  “She was my best friend in Roseburg.”

  “Any relation to that—that Carstone family in Washington?”

  “A first cousin. Emily visited their ranch while the army training camp was there. That was early. But Emily said it was too swift for her…. A year later came the horrible disgrace. Five sisters ruined! Emily’s father went out there, got the family away, and sold the ranch…. I know all about the affair. Emily told me. What’s more, her father told Major Atwell to stay away from Roseburg or he’d shoot him. That happened last May, just before I went back to Solitude. Now Major Atwell knows I know all this. And it strikes me the facts might be known in Grant’s Pass by this time.”

  “Good heavens! Beryl, why in the world didn’t you tell me this long ago? We talked about Atwell. I don’t remember what else. But you had some hint of——”

  “Yes, I did,” interposed Beryl, her face flushing. “But I hated the whole thing. I didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “You knew—all the time you knew Gus Atwell had laid his vile doings upon me!”

  “All the time I knew, Kev. Also I knew what rot it was. Truth always comes out. No man can hide his crimes forever. Atwell is a—a—oh, I’ve no name dirty enough for him…. And he’d just better look out or he’ll have Emily Carstone’s father and Daddy Aard to reckon with!”

  Keven gazed mutely at Beryl. White-faced, with dark flashing passionate eyes bent upon him, she held him transfixed with her beauty and menace. Then she turned to the articles on the bed.

  “I’m sorry it came up, Kev. But maybe that’s just as well…. Now you run out and buy those bags for me. Don’t stay long.”

  Pondering and bewildered, Keven left the hotel and went uptown to make the purchases. It seemed there was infinitely more reason for him to worship Beryl Aard than he had ever dreamed of. Moreover something strange was beating into his perplexity. Life or love or God was recompensing him for the misery and pain he had endured. He had been turned back from the precipice of failure—from the abyss of crime.

  The following night late Keven and Beryl arrived in Grant’s Pass. The long ride through beautiful Oregon and the gradual approach to his home and father, and to some thrilling adventure he anticipated, had heightened Keven’s spirits to the utmost. He put aside dismaying and inexplicable questions. They drove to the best hotel, which was new to Keven, and there he laboriously registered as unintelligibly as possible. And he had the satisfaction of seeing that neither his face nor name had been recognized. He did not fail to note that Beryl, as usual, wherever they went, was the recipient of most admiring glances.

 
“Beryl, nobody knew me,” said Keven with satisfaction, when they were alone in the spacious pleasant room. “Gosh, that clerk rubbered at you. And the other men, too.”

  “I didn’t notice. But if I’m ever to be noticed I want it to be in your home town.”

  “Noticed? Good Lord, listen to you,” declared Keven. “A blind man could see you’re a bride. A beauty! A peach! A queen!”

  “Thank you, Kev. That is fine on my honeymoon. But I fear you’re a little hipped over my good looks.”

  “All right. I’m glad you’re not conceited. And I’m glad you make such a hit with the men…. Doggone them, I’ll show them you belong to me. I’m goin to act differently here in my home town. I intend to hang onto you, fall all over you, gaze at you like a dying duck, hug and kiss you in public——”

  “You can’t scare me, Kev Bell. Go ahead. I dare you.”

  “You do? Very well, Mrs. Bell,” he returned threateningly.

  “I’d like nothing better than for your old girls to see you act that way…. And I’ll show them.”

  “It’s a bargain,” cried Keven.

  At sunrise he was up, gazing out of the window, from which he could see across the roofs of the town to the meadows, the pines, and the shining river, a ribbon of rose. What a magnificent thrill he sustained! He could look at the playgrounds of his boyhood with a new joy, with a surety that the regret and grief and bitterness of his first home-coming after the war had gone forever.

  After a while he awoke Beryl.

  “Wake up, angel. And put on that blue outfit. We’re going to start knocking ’em dead.”

  “What time is it?” yawned Beryl, stretching her round arms.

  “It’s late. Eight o’clock.”

  “So late! Well, chase yourself, you wild-eyed bridegroom! I can’t get up with you staring there.”

  “Gosh, but I adore you!” cried Keven, kissing the red lips. “I just know I’ll come to presently and find this all a dream…. I’ll wait for you downstairs in the lobby.”

  Keven took a last glance at himself in the mirror, to make sure that the immeasurable improvement in his features was real. It also reflected the well-cut gray suit, and the fact that never before in his life had he looked like this.

 

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