Man From Mustang

by Brand, Max

  But one thing was clear in his mind. Nellihan, he could swear, was the man who had killed Buck. He had spoken of familiarity with guns. And he was exactly the type of slayer who would shoot from the dark of an open window.

  These ideas, rolling across the brain of Silver, were ended by his arrival near the cabin where Lorens lived. He held up his hand as a signal to draw rein, and presently they were dismounting near the cabin of Lorens. He whistled, and Lorens himself came out, hurrying.

  “Are you there?” he called.

  “Here!” said the girl.

  “Thank Heaven for that!” said Lorens.

  He told Silver to unsaddle and hobble the horses. He even lingered a moment to look over the animals and he said:

  “You got your money’s worth, Juan.”

  Then he turned away beside the girl.

  Silver heard her say breathlessly: “Is he here?”

  “Not yet,” answered Lorens, lowering his voice. “Not yet, but he ought to get here before the morning. Did you bring it?”

  “I have it with me — plenty!” she said.

  “Good!” said Lorens, very heartily, and they disappeared through the door of the cabin.

  Silver went about the unsaddling of the horses, wondering who might the “he” whom the girl desired to see, and what was the “it” that she had brought plenty of?

  He had hardly finished hobbling the horses when Lorens called him.

  “Juan,” said the man, “can you navigate on very little sleep?”

  “Senor,” said Silver, “I can lay up sleep the way a cow lays up fat in summer for the winter.”

  “Can you keep your eyes open all night long?” asked Lorens.

  “For three nights, señor, without closing my eyes.”

  “Good!” said Lorens. “Good man! The lady has told me about the way you handled Nellihan in the town. A very good bit of work, Juan. Come inside and have some coffee, and anything you want to eat.”

  “No, señor,” said Silver. “I have had coffee enough; and I have eaten enough. Now I shall stay outside and watch.”

  “She wants to thank you, Juan,” said Lorens. “Come in for that!”

  It was the last thing that Silver wished to go through. He knew the clear, quiet eyes of the girl, and he did not wish to have them fall on him now. What men could not see, she would penetrate with her woman’s glance, perhaps. However, there was hardly an easy way of refusing to face her, and he had to follow Lorens back into the cabin.

  The girl sat at the wobbly little table in the centre of the room, eating cold venison steak with relish. She looked up at Silver, and smiled at him, while he stood with his head inclined, his feet close together, his neck thrust a little forward, and his shoulders bowed a trifle. There is nothing that confuses recollection more than a change of the habitual posture of a man. He could hope that she would never dream of the erect, straight-eyed, rather imperious “Arizona Jim,” when she was talking to this awkward Mexican, with the shock of black hair falling down over his eyes.

  “It was a very bad time for me, back yonder in the town, Juan,” she said. “I want to thank you for helping me. Nobody could have done better. Nobody! For he’s a dangerous fellow — that one, Juan. If you hadn’t stunned him, he would have been shooting while he fell!”

  Silver bobbed his head, made a vague, brief gesture with one hand, and then shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say that what was passed was forgotten, and that the whole affair was not really worth much consideration.

  Her manner changed a little. Her head tilted a shade to the side. A certain quizzical look appeared in her face.

  Then, rising, she held out her hand.

  “Give me your hand, Juan,” said she. “Because after we’ve shaken hands, you’ll believe that I won’t forget you. And when I find out what you like the most in the world, I’ll try to get it for you.”

  Silver looked down at the palm of his right hand, shrugged his shoulders again, scrubbed his hand against the white cotton trousers he wore, and then glided forward to take the hand of the girl and make a little ducking bow above it.

  When he tried to withdraw his hand, she kept a firm grip on it.

  “It was something more than saving my life, that you did for me,” she said. “It was giving me a last fighting chance for happiness, Juan!”

  “He’s tongue-tied,” said Lorens, laughing. “Let him go. He’s a strong devil, and brave as steel. Juan, you can go outside now, and stand watch. Keep your eyes open. What I expect is one man and one horse. If you find more than one coming this way, give me the alarm. You understand?”

  Silver nodded, backed through the door, and was gone.

  When he was at a distance, he whistled a bar of a song to register the amount of ground that separated him from the cabin; then he turned and ran for it like a silent shadow, and paused close to the door in time enough to hear her say:

  “You’re sure about him?”

  “Why not?” said Lorens. “He’s done enough to prove himself, I’d say! He’s worked well for you. He’s bought me two fine horses for half the money that I would have had to pay.”

  “His eyes are light,” she answered.

  “You find plenty of light-colored eyes in Mexico,” said Lorens.

  “They must be the exception, though,” said the girl.

  “Well, perhaps they are.”

  “So this man Juan is one of the exceptions,” said she. “He’s an exception in lots of ways. He’s bigger than most men. He has heavier shoulders and longer arms. Most peons look stupid, but he has a thinking face. There is a sort of fire of fierceness in him, but when he was standing in front of me, he tried to cover up everything.”

  “Come, come,” said Lorens. “You know how that is — just nervous, just embarrassed in front of the beautiful señorita!” He laughed a little.

  “It wasn’t embarrassment,” she answered. “There wasn’t any embarrassment in his make-up. There was no blood warming up to his skin. He was cool as a cucumber. And from the look or two I had at his eyes, it seemed to me that he was all set and intent on something, like a tightrope walker a thousand feet off the ground. He was watching his step.”

  “I don’t believe that,” said Lorens.

  “I hope that I’m wrong,” she answered. “But all the while it seemed to me that he was trying to prevent me from having a look at his mind. He hung his head and let his hair fall over his eyes. But it seemed to me that his natural position would be as straight as an arrow, and looking the world in the eye. That’s what I felt about him. Perhaps I’m wrong. I know that I’m nervous enough to make mistakes. It’s because I’m making my last play to win happiness, and I can’t feel secure about anything. Perhaps I have an hour, or a day, or a week — if we’re lucky, there may be a month for us. But that’s the end! It’s for that instant of happiness that I’m fighting and on the alert!”

  “All right,” said Lorens, his voice growing a little weary and cold. “I suppose I know what you mean. But this fellow Juan — he’s all right. If he’s not, I’ll cut out his heart and take a look at the color of it!”

  Chapter 15

  It is possible to be grateful even to a rogue. Silver was grateful to Lorens. He knew the man was a scoundrel, as dangerous as a snake with poisonous craft, and still he was grateful because Lorens had defended him.

  But as Silver drew back into the night again, he kept wondering what might be that happiness for which the girl was willing to do so much.

  Now he began to make his rounds of the place, sliding shadowy among the brush and through the trees, rousing up every animal instinct to the keenest pitch of alertness. Nervous hands, as it were, began to reach out from him, and make him aware of everything near by. And yet, for all his caution, for all his spying, when he saw the figure standing at the door of the shack, it was as though the form had risen out of the ground.

  He started toward the cabin, swiftly.

  For one thing, they had talked about a horseman a
rriving, and there had not been a hoofbeat even in the distance for a long time. Silver was halfway to the door of the cabin when the shadowy form slipped suddenly through the door into the lighted cabin. Silver had a sight of a man of middle height, of rather a strong build — and as the fellow disappeared from view, the voice of the girl split the very eardrum of Silver with a scream.

  He came at the cabin as fast as a tiger runs at easy prey. Through the doorway he leaped with the Colt ready in his hand — and saw Edith Alton Kenyon wrapped in the arms of the stranger, while Lorens conveniently turned his back and had started toward the door.

  When Lorens saw the drawn gun, he snapped out a revolver of his own with wonderful speed, but by that time it was apparent that Silver was simply amazed, not attacking. As for the stranger, his face was visible in profile, and it clearly showed the features of the escaped criminal, the pursued murderer, David Holman!

  Silver drew back toward the door, entranced. Lorens was beckoning to him to go outside again. And the last he saw was that Holman had made the girl sit down, while he kneeled in front of her and kissed her hands, and looked constantly, hungrily, into her face.

  Pale from the prison confinement, his eyes deeply sunk in shadow, it seemed to Silver that David Holman could easily be capable of a murder — but hardly a murder by stealth. It was as strong a face as Silver ever had seen. There was a stonelike quality about the flesh, and there seemed to be a stonelike quality about the stare which he fixed on the girl. He was not speaking. His jaws were hard set. But it seemed to Silver that he had never seen passion so mute or so powerful. That was the index and the key of the man — power, power, and more power!

  Looking at him now, it was not at all strange that he had robbed a bank and killed two assistant thieves, but it was just a trifle odd that a sheriff and a posse ever had been able to take him alive, or that he should have told such a cock-and-bull story in his trial.

  But there he was in the cabin — that happiness for which the girl had been working and praying; an hour, a day, a week, a month of David Holman had been her dream. And Silver, seeing her in the fulfillment of her wish, found her transfigured. She was crying with happiness; she was a child, and yet she was more profoundly a woman than any Silver had ever before seen in his strange life.

  He went out through the door into the black of the night, dazed and confused. He heard Lorens saying, within:

  “You two need to talk. Ill take the outer guard, and Juan will keep the door. You can talk right out. He only understands ten words of English.”

  He came out, calling: “Juan! Come here!”

  Silver came slowly back to him.

  “You stand here by the door, Juan,” said Lorens. “You’ve made one mistake to-night — that is to say, it might have been a mistake if that had been any man other than Holman. Now, keep your eyes a little wider open. You won’t find many as shifty as Holman, but there are others who have eyes, too.”

  “I shall watch,” said Silver grimly. “But if I stay close by the door, I can see only half the night.”

  “Do as I tell you,” said Lorens. “Stand right by the door, and be ready to shoot if anything strange happens. You know what this means, now, Juan. You know that Holman is hunted by the law, with a price on his head. But can you trust us to give you more than the law would give you?”

  “Señor,” said Silver, “the law has very seldom been my friend. Why should I work for it? And even if I could capture Señor Holman and bring him to the sheriff, ways would be found of cheating a poor Mexican like me. Besides, perhaps the law wants me, also!” Lorens laughed.

  “You’re a useful sort of a fellow, Juan,” said he. “And you’ll be paid your weight in gold, before you’re through with this business. There’s money to be had out of this affair, and trust me, I know how to get it. This whole business is dripping with coin — dripping! And you shall keep your share. Keep your eyes open. I’m going to walk in a big circle around the house.”

  He went off into the darkness, whistling under his breath, and Silver pursed his lips in silence.

  It was clearly apparent that Lorens was in this for the money, only. He had been the agent, the go-between who had helped the girl to free Holman from prison, in some way. He had distributed the bribes in the proper places, perhaps. And now that the two were together, Lorens intended to watch over them, serve them, and continually squeeze the purse of the girl for his own gain.

  In the meantime, it was unpleasant to be an eavesdropper at the door of the cabin, but he could not disobey Lorens. He walked back and forth and tried to shut the voices from his ears, but they kept penetrating his brain constantly.

  She was explaining: “Lorens knew one of the trusties very well. He had to pour the man full of money, but at last the thing was done. Some of the bribes were handed out, here and there. And that was why the guards looked the other way when you were escaping. But I don’t want to talk about that. The thing’s done. You’re here. Nothing else matters.”

  “I want to have everything clear in my mind,” said Holman’s voice. It was deep, resonant, and yet very quiet. “Where did the money come from? According to your father’s will, you were not to have any real income until you married.”

  Light shot at last through the brain of Silver, as he listened.

  The girl said nothing.

  “Is that hard for you to answer?” asked Holman.

  There was more silence.

  “Do I have to tell you?” she asked at last.

  “No,” said Holman. “I don’t want to put a finger’s weight of pressure on you. Tell me only what you please.”

  “Then forget everything in the past!” she urged him. “You know that we haven’t long together. They are going to hunt you down. Every minute is one of the last minutes. How can we waste them?”

  “Secrets will make shadows between us — that’s all,” said Holman.

  “If I tell you,” said the girl, her voice breaking, “you’ll despise me!”

  A sudden fierce anxiety broke out in his next words: “What thing have you done?”

  “I found a man who would marry me,” she said. “I found — ”

  “You mean to say that you’re married, Edith?” breathed Holman.

  “Only in name, only in name!” said the girl. “Listen to me! There was no other way to get the money, and without money I couldn’t help you. I found a man — the simplest fellow in the world, only interested in ranching and beef, and such things. I was going to marry him, and then disappear, and leave him a large sum of money, so that he could go ahead and lead the sort of life that he wanted to lead. And when I failed to appear again, he could get his divorce without the slightest trouble because of desertion. Don’t you see? Wanted to do him no real harm, but actually to help him, and chiefly, to help you!”

  “You wanted to do him no harm,” muttered Holman. “And then what happened to him?”

  She had to pause to rally herself for a moment, apparently, but at last she said: “He grew fond of me. And he — Listen to me! You have to listen. You can’t turn away like this. I know it makes you sick at heart. I know that you would never have wanted me to do it. But I couldn’t dream — ”

  “Before you married him,” said Holman, “didn’t you have an idea that he might be getting in pretty deep?”

  “I couldn’t know for sure. He was such a great, gaunt, simple creature — a caricature of a man. Every one laughed at him — and I wasn’t laughing at him. No, no, I was pitying him and liking him. I began to guess that he was fond of me, really. I couldn’t tell how much, though.”

  Holman groaned. Silver heard the spat of a fist driven into the flat of a palm.

  “David, what could I do?” cried the girl. “Look at me; tell me what I could do? I didn’t dream poor Ned would be of such fine stuff. I thought he might feel one twinge of pain, and then forget all about me in the pleasure of having ten thousand dollars.”

  Holman’s step began to pace the floor.

&
nbsp; “What’s his name?” asked Holman bluntly.

  “Edward Kenyon. He — ”

  “I’ve kept my hands clean all my life,” said Holman bitterly, “and only for this — to be a condemned criminal escaped from the death house owing to a fraud on the part of a woman. I’m a sponger — a sneaking, cringing cur! I live on a woman; I let her torture other men for me. Ah, that’s a picture to remember!”

  “If I’d opened my heart and told the whole thing to poor Ned,” said the girl, “he would have gone through the form of the wedding. I know that, now, but at the time I was afraid that one whisper of the truth would get out and be the ruin of my plan to set you free, David.”

  “Hush!” said Holman. “I’m going mad. My brain’s turning. I know you’ve done nothing for your own sake, and everything for mine. It seems that I’m put on the earth to make a fool of myself and a scoundrel of every one else around me. I’ve put a curse on the people I love. I’ve made a sneaking, contriving, lying criminal out of you! Out of you!”

  Silver heard her begin to sob, not wildly, but a deep, choked sound that told how she was fighting like a man against her weakness. But Holman did not console her.

  “About the money,” he said. “How much have you spent, so far?”

  “I don’t know, David. I don’t want to think of it. The money doesn’t matter. Heaven knows I would have given everything for these moments with you, even if you’ve begun to detest and despise me!”

  “Despise you?” said Holman, in a voice that made Silver stop short in his harried pacing to and fro. “It’s myself that’s being poisoned by every word that you’ve told me. I want to know the whole story. How much have you spent?”

  “You have to know? You command me, David?”

  “I beg you, my dear!”

  “It’s something over forty thousand dollars.”

  Silver heard Holman gasp.

  “You paid that out to whom?”