Young Jeff felt in his bones what was going to happen next, and made Ah Lee come away with him.
All this while Bart Warbuck hadn’t said a word; nor had Jim Ogden. But their faces were grim. Perhaps both knew.
All Warbuck’s men, saving himself and Ogden, were stripped stark naked and plastered from head to foot with thick tar; they were feathered until they looked like nothing on earth; they were advised that if they moved rapidly they’d surely find a clime much better for their health than this one. And to the accompaniment of large laughter, they vanished in the befriending dark.
Then Warbuck began raving; he threatened, he offered bribes; he swore he’d pay this handful of men so much money, that each of them would be rich for life. Jim Ogden asked for a last cigarette; beyond that he did not open his mouth.
The two were put up on horses, side by side. Nooses were drawn tight about their necks, ropes thrown over a big sturdy limb of an old pine that had lived here a hundred years and probably understood what it was all about. Red Shirt Bill Morgan gave the word.
“Let ’em go!” he said.
The horses, released and slapped on their rumps, leaped forward.
* * * *
One of the last of the womenfolk to leave was Chrystine Ward. She came seeking Young Jeff, and though she did not find him alone as she had hoped she spoke up swiftly and straightforwardly.
“Jeff! Listen! I didn’t know—I didn’t understand! Oh, please believe me! Mr. Warbuck brought me here, got me my place and I’ve been working for him all the time. I’ve been a—a nasty spy! The boys would drop in at the school-house—I’d go riding with them—they’d tell me things and I’d tell Mr. Warbuck. But I told you about that, didn’t I?—And I’d tell that horrible old woman, too. I—I thought—Oh, I’ll never forgive myself!”
Jeff said gently, “That’s all right, Chrystine. Everything’s all right now.” He still had Ah Lee’s hand in his, holding it tightly.
Chrystine stood a moment, looking at the two of them, then at Young Jeff alone, her big eyes at their widest, her mouth quivering. Suddenly she whirled about and ran away, and they heard the first of her many sobs clutching her throat.
An unexpected voice spoke up as a soft-footed figure advanced from the shadows.
“Hello, Bossee Jeff’son. Hello, Missee Ah Lee,” said Ah Wong. “Me come ’long, too. Go down Halcyon, ketchee lilly bit whisky, come ’long here. Now go ’long home. You come plitty qlick, Bossee Jeff’son?”
“Yes, Wong. Pretty soon.”
“Nicee young wi-hoo you ketchee,” giggled Ah Wong. “Bully. She washee, sweepee, makee house nice! All light, Bossee. All light, Missee Bossee Ah Lee.”
He went his way, carrying his whisky jug and giggling, a very happy Chinaman and an observant one.
Jeff looked down into the girl’s upturned face. The glow of a distant fire made a faint rose-flush on her cheeks; the starlight was reflected in her eyes.
“How about it, Missee Ah Lee?” he asked. “You see Ah Wong’s got his heart set on it; shall we let him down?”
“Why Jeff, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“What next, for you? Where to go, what to do? Of course the world is wide, and all that, but—Where? Halcyon? Or back with me! Home!”
“Jeff!”
“Don’t you like Wong? You don’t want us to let him down, do you?”
“What are you talking about?”
Jeff gathered her close into his arms. She didn’t know yet what was the fate destined for Warbuck and Jim Ogden; he didn’t want her to know until later. He did want, wanted with all his heart and strength, to kiss her. He did kiss her, and she clung to him. She said faintly, “What did he mean? Ah Wong, when he said ‘Wi-hoo.’ What did that mean, Jefferson Cody?”
“It’s an old Chinese expression.” He whispered into her ear, “It means ‘wife.’ Will you, Ah Lee?”
She had to think it over. She said finally, “Well, I really do like Wong. I wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would you, Bossee Jeff’son?”
“No, Ah Lee,” said Young Jeff Cody. “No, Wi-hoo! Let’s ride!”
The Fifth Western Novel Page 77
