The U. P. Trail

by Zane Grey

  27

  For many moments after the beautiful bare-armed woman closed and lockedthe door Allie Lee sat in ecstasy, in trembling anticipation of Neale.

  Gradually, however, in intervals of happy mind-wanderings, otherthoughts intruded. This little bedroom affected her singularly and shewas at a loss to account for the fact. It did not seem that she wasactually afraid to be there, for she was glad. Fear of Durade and hisgang recurred, but she believed that the time of her deliverance wasclose at hand. Possibly Durade, with some of his men, had been killedin the fight with Hough. Then she remembered having heard the Spaniardorder Fresno and Mull to go round by the street. They must be on hertrail at this very moment. Ancliffe had been seen, and not much timecould elapse before her whereabouts would be discovered. But Alliebore up bravely. She was in the thick of grim and bloody and horriblereality. Those brave men, strangers to her, had looked into her face,questioned her, then had died for her. It was all so unbelievable. Inanother room, close to her, lay Ancliffe, dead. Allie tried not to thinkof him; of the remorseless way in which he had killed the Mexican; ofthe contrast between this action and his gentle voice and manner. Shetried not to think of the gambler Hough--the cold iron cast of his faceas he won Durade's gold, the strange, intent look which he gave her amoment before the attack. There was something magnificent in Ancliffe'sbringing her to a refuge while he was dying; there was somethingmagnificent in Hough's standing off the gang. Allie divined that throughher these two men had fought and died for something in themselves aswell as for her honor and life.

  The little room seemed a refuge for Allie, yet it was oppressive, ashad been the atmosphere of the parlor where Ancliffe lay. But thisoppressiveness was not death. Allie had become familiar with death nearat hand. This refuge made her flesh creep.

  The room was not the home of any one--it was not inhabited, it was notlivable. Yet it contained the same kind of furniture Durade had boughtfor her and it was clean and comfortable. Still, Allie shrank fromtouching anything. Through the walls came the low, strange, discordantdin to which she had become accustomed--an intense, compelling blend ofmusic, song, voice, and step actuated by one spirit. Then at times sheimagined she heard distant hammering and the slap of a falling board.

  Probably Allie had not stayed in this room many moments when she beganto feel that she had been there hours. Surely the woman would returnsoon with Neale. And the very thoughts drove all else out of her mind,leaving her palpitating with hope, sick with longing.

  Footsteps outside distracted her from the nervous, dreamy mood. Some onewas coming along the hall. Her heart gave a wild bound--then sank. Thesteps passed by her door. She heard the thick, maudlin voice of a manand the hollow, trilling laugh of a girl.

  Allie's legs began to grow weak under her. The strain, the suspense,the longing grew to be too much for her and occasioned a revulsion offeeling. She had let her hopes carry her too high.

  Suddenly the door-handle rattled and turned. Allie was brought to astifling expectancy, motionless in the center of the room. Some one wasoutside at the door. Could it be Neale? It must be! Her sensitive earscaught short, puffing breaths--then the click of a key in the lock.Allie stood there in an anguish of suspense, with the lift of her heartalmost suffocating her. Like a leaf in the wind she quivered.

  Whoever was out there fumbled at the key. Then the lock rasped, thehandle turned, the door opened. A tall man swaggered in, with head bentsideways, his hand removing the key from the lock. Before he saw Alliehe closed the door. With that he faced around.

  Allie recognized the red face, the flashing eyes, the flaming hair.

  "Larry!" she cried, with bursting heart. She took a quick step, ready toleap into his arms, but his violent start checked her. Larry staggeredback--put a hand out. His face was heated and flushed as Allie had neverseen it. A stupid surprise showed there. Slowly his hand moved upto cross his lips, to brush through his red hair; then with swiftermovement it swept back to feel the door, as if he wanted the touch oftangible things.

  "Reckon I'm seein' 'em again!" he muttered to himself. "Oh, Larry--I'mAllie Lee!" she cried, holding out her hands.

  She saw the color fade out of his face. A shock seemed to go over hisbody. He took a couple of dragging strides toward her. His eyes had thegaze of a man who did not believe what he saw. The hand he reached outshook.

  "I'm no ghost! Larry, don't--you--know me?" she faltered. Indeed he musthave thought her a phantom. Great, clammy drops stood out upon his brow.

  "Dear old--redhead!" she whispered, brokenly, with a smile of agony andjoy. He would know her when she spoke that way--called him the name shehad tormented him with--the name no one else would have dared to use.

  Then she saw he believed in her reality. His face began to work. Shethrew her arms about him--she gave up to a frenzy of long-deferredhappiness. Where Larry was there would Neale be.

  "Allie--it ain't--you?" he asked, hoarsely, as he hugged her close.

  "Oh, Larry--yes--yes--and I'll die of joy!" she whispered.

  "Then you shore ain't--daid?" he went on, incredulously.

  How sweet to Allie was the old familiar Southern drawl!

  "Dead? Never....Why, I've kissed you!... and you haven't kissed meback."

  She felt his breast heave as he lifted her off her feet to kiss herawkwardly, boyishly.

  "Shore--the world's comin' to an end!... But mebbe I'm only drunk!"

  He held her close, towering over her, while he gazed around him and downat her, shaking his head, muttering again in bewilderment.

  "Reddy dear--where, oh, where is Neale?" she breathed, all her heart inher voice.

  As he released her Allie felt a difference. His whole body seemed togather, to harden, then vibrate, as if he had been stung.

  "My Gawd!" he whispered in hoarse accents of amaze and horror. "Is ityou--Allie--here?"

  "Of course it's I," replied Allie, blankly.

  His face turned white to the lips.

  "Reddy, what in the world is wrong?" she gasped, beginning to wring herhands.

  Suddenly he leaped at her. With rude, iron grasp he forced her back,under the light, and fixed piercing eyes upon hers. He bent closer.Allie was frightened, yet fascinated. His gaze hurt with its intensity,its strange, penetrating power. Allie could not bear it.

  "Allie, look at me," he said, low and hard. "For I reckon you mayn't hevvery long to live!"

  Allie struggled weakly. He looked so gray, grim, and terrible. But shecould resist neither his strength nor his spirit. She lay quiet andmet the clear, strange fire of his eyes. In a few swift moments he hadchanged utterly.

  "Larry--aren't--you--drunk?" she faltered.

  "I was, but now I'm sober.... Girl, kiss me again!"

  In wonder and fear Allie complied, now flushing scarlet.

  "I--I was never so happy," she whispered. "But Larry--you--you frightenme.... I--"

  "Happy!" ejaculated Larry. Then he let her go and stood up, breathinghard. "There's a hell of a lie heah somewheres--but it ain't in you."

  "Larry, talk sense. I'm weak from long waiting. Oh, tell me of Neale!"

  What a strange, curious, incomprehensible glance he gave her!

  "Allie--Neale's heah in Benton. I can take you to him in ten minutes. Doyou want me to?"

  "Want you to!... Reddy! I'll die if you don't take me--at once!" shecried, in anguish.

  Again Larry loomed over her. This time he took her hands. "How long hadyou been heah--before I came?" he asked.

  "Half an hour, perhaps; maybe less. But it seemed long."

  "Do you--know--what kind of a house you're in--this heah room--what itmeans?" he went on, very low and huskily.

  "No, I don't," she replied, instantly, with sudden curiosity. Questionsand explanations rushed to her lips. But this strangely acting Larrydominated her.

  "No other man--came in heah? I--was the first?"

  "Yes."

  Then Larry King seemed to wrestle with--himself--with the hold drink hadupon him--
with that dark and sinister oppression so thick in the room.Allie thrilled to see his face grow soft and light up with the smile sheremembered. How strange to feel in Larry King a spirit of gladness, ofgratefulness for something beyond her understanding! Again he drew herclose. And Allie, keen to read and feel him, wondered why he seemed towant to hide the sight of his face.

  "Wal--I reckon--I was nigh onto bein' drunk," he said, haltingly. "Shoreis a bad habit of mine--Allie.... Makes me think of a lot of--guff--jestthe same as it makes me see snakes--an' things.... I'll quit drinkin',Allie.... Never will touch liquor again--now if you'll jest forgive."

  He spoke gently, huskily, with tears in his voice, and he broke offcompletely.

  "Forgive! Larry, boy, there's nothing to forgive--except your nothurrying me to--to him!"

  She felt the same violent start in him. He held her a moment longer.Then, when he let go of her and stepped back Allie saw the cowboy as ofold, cool and easy, yet somehow menacing, as he had been that day thestrangers rode into Slingerland's camp.

  "Allie--thet woman Stanton locked you in heah?" queried Larry.

  "Yes. Then she--"

  Larry's quick gesture enjoined silence. Stealthy steps sounded out inthe hall. They revived Allie's fear of Durade and his men. It struckher suddenly that Larry must be ignorant of the circumstances that hadplaced her there.

  The cowboy unlocked the door--peeped out. As he turned, how clear andcold his blue eyes flashed!

  "I'll get you out of heah," he whispered. "Come."

  They went out. The passage was empty. Allie clung closely to him. At thecorner, where the halls met, he halted to listen. Only the low hum ofvoices came up.

  "Larry, I must tell you," whispered Allie. "Durade and his gang areafter me. Fresno--Mull--Black--Dayss--you know them?"

  "I--reckon," he replied, swallowing hard. "My Gawd! you poor littlegirl! With that gang after you! An' Stanton! I see all now.... She saysto me, 'Larry, I've a new girl heah'.... Wal, Beauty Stanton, thet was abad deal for you--damn your soul!"

  Trembling, Allie opened her lips to speak, but again the cowboy motionedher to be quiet. He need not have done it, for he suddenly seemedterrible, wild, deadly, rendering her mute.

  "Allie if I call to you, duck behind me an' hold on to me. I'll take youout of heah."

  Then he put her on his left side and led her down the righthandpassage toward the wide room Allie remembered. She looked on into thedance-hall. Larry did not hurry. He sauntered carelessly, yet Allie felthow intense he was. They reached the head of the stairway. The room wasfull of men and girls. The woman Stanton was there and, wheeling,she uttered a cry that startled Allie. Was this white, glaring-eyed,drawn-faced woman the one who had gone for Neale? Allie began to shake.She saw and heard with startling distinctness. The woman's cry hadturned every face toward the stairway, and the buzz of voices ceased.

  Stanton ran to the stairway, started up, and halted, raising a white armin passionate gesture.

  "Where are you taking that girl?" she called, stridently.

  Larry stepped down, drawing Allie with him. "I'm takin' her to Neale."

  Stanton shrieked and waved her arms. Indeed, she seemed another womanfrom the one upon whose breast Allie had laid her head just a littlewhile before.

  "No, you won't take her to Neale!" cried Stanton.

  The cowboy stepped down slowly, guardedly, but he kept on. Allie saw menrun out of the crowded dance-hall into the open space behind Stanton.Dark, hateful, well-remembered faces of Fresno--Mull--Black! Alliepressed the cowboy's arm to warn him, and he, letting go of her,appeared to motion her behind him.

  "Stanton! Get out of my way!" yelled Larry. His voice rang with a wild,ruthless note; it carried far and stiffened every figure except that ofthe frantic woman. With convulsed face, purple in its fury, and the hoteyes of a beast of prey she ran right up at the cowboy, heedless of thegun he held leveled low down.

  He shot her. She swayed backward, uttering a low and horrible cry, andeven as she swayed her face blanched and her eyes changed. She fellheavily, with her golden hair loosening and her bare white armsspreading wide. Then in the horror-stricken silence she lay there, stillconscious, but with an awful hunted realization in the eyes fixed uponthe cowboy, a great growing splotch of blood darkening the white of herdress.

  Larry King did not look at Stanton and he kept moving down the steps; hewas walking faster now, and he drew Allie behind him. The first of thatstunned group to awake to action was the giant Fresno, as, with blind,unreasoning passion, he attempted to draw upon the cowboy. The boom ofLarry's big gun and the crash of Fresno as he fell woke the spellboundcrowd into an uproar. Screaming women and shouting men rushed madly backinto the dance-hall.

  Larry turned toward the hallway leading to the street. Mull and Blackbegan shooting as he turned, and hit him, for Allie, holding fast tohim, felt the vibrating shock of his body. With two swift shots Larrykilled both men. Mull fell across the width of the hall. And as Alliestumbled over his body she looked down to see his huge head, his ruddyface, and the great ox-eyes, rolling and ghastly. In that brief glanceshe saw him die.

  The cowboy strode fast now. Allie, with hands clenched in his coat,clung desperately to him. Hollow booms of guns filled the passageway,and hoarse shouts of alarmed men sounded from the street. Burned powdersmoke choked Allie. The very marrow of her bones seemed curdled. She sawthe red belches of fire near and far; she passed a man floundering andbellowing on the floor; she felt Larry jerk back as if struck, and thensomething hot grazed her shoulder. A bullet had torn clear through him,from breast to back. He staggered, but he went on. Another man lay onthe threshold of the wide door, his head down the step, and his pallidface blood-streaked. A smoking gun lay near his twitching hand. Thatpallid face belonged to Dayss.

  Larry King staggered out into an empty street, looking up and down."Wal, I reckon--thet's--aboot--all!" he drawled, with low, strangledutterance.

  Then swaying from side to side he strode swiftly, almost fallingforward, holding tight to Allie. They drew away from the brighterlights. Allie was dimly aware of moving forms ahead and across thestreet. Once, fearfully, she looked back, to see if they were followed.

  The cowboy halted, tottering against a house, He seemed pale andsmiling.

  "Run--Allie!" he whispered.

  "No--no--no!" she replied, clinging to him. "You're shot!... Oh,Larry--come on!"

  "TELL--MY PARD--NEALE--"

  His head fell back hard against the wood and his body, sagging, lodgedthere. Life had passed out of the gray face. Larry Red King diedstanding, with a gun in each hand, and the name of his friend the lastword upon his lips.

  "Oh, Larry--Larry!" moaned Allie.

  She could not run. She could scarcely walk. Dark forms loomed up. Herstrength failed, and as she reeled, sinking down, rude hands graspedher. Above her bent the gleaming face and glittering eyes of Durade.