by Zane Grey
CHAPTER XVI. GOLD
As Lassiter had reported to Jane, Venters "went through" safely, andafter a toilsome journey reached the peaceful shelter of SurpriseValley. When finally he lay wearily down under the silver spruces,resting from the strain of dragging packs and burros up the slope andthrough the entrance to Surprise Valley, he had leisure to think, anda great deal of the time went in regretting that he had not been frankwith his loyal friend, Jane Withersteen.
But, he kept continually recalling, when he had stood once more face toface with her and had been shocked at the change in her and had heardthe details of her adversity, he had not had the heart to tell her ofthe closer interest which had entered his life. He had not lied; yet hehad kept silence.
Bess was in transports over the stores of supplies and the outfit he hadpacked from Cottonwoods. He had certainly brought a hundred timesmore than he had gone for; enough, surely, for years, perhaps to makepermanent home in the valley. He saw no reason why he need ever leavethere again.
After a day of rest he recovered his strength and shared Bess's pleasurein rummaging over the endless packs, and began to plan for the future.And in this planning, his trip to Cottonwoods, with its revived hateof Tull and consequent unleashing of fierce passions, soon faded outof mind. By slower degrees his friendship for Jane Withersteen and hiscontrition drifted from the active preoccupation of his present thoughtto a place in memory, with more and more infrequent recalls.
And as far as the state of his mind was concerned, upon the second dayafter his return, the valley, with its golden hues and purple shades,the speaking west wind and the cool, silent night, and Bess's watchingeyes with their wonderful light, so wrought upon Venters that he mightnever have left them at all.
That very afternoon he set to work. Only one thing hindered him uponbeginning, though it in no wise checked his delight, and that in themultiplicity of tasks planned to make a paradise out of the valley hecould not choose the one with which to begin. He had to grow into thehabit of passing from one dreamy pleasure to another, like a bee goingfrom flower to flower in the valley, and he found this wandering habitlikely to extend to his labors. Nevertheless, he made a start.
At the outset he discovered Bess to be both a considerable help in someways and a very great hindrance in others. Her excitement and joy werespurs, inspirations; but she was utterly impracticable in her ideas,and she flitted from one plan to another with bewildering vacillation.Moreover, he fancied that she grew more eager, youthful, and sweet; andhe marked that it was far easier to watch her and listen to her thanit was to work. Therefore he gave her tasks that necessitated her goingoften to the cave where he had stored his packs.
Upon the last of these trips, when he was some distance down the terraceand out of sight of camp, he heard a scream, and then the sharp barkingof the dogs.
For an instant he straightened up, amazed. Danger for her had beenabsolutely out of his mind. She had seen a rattlesnake--or a wildcat.Still she would not have been likely to scream at sight of either; andthe barking of the dogs was ominous. Dropping his work, he dashed backalong the terrace. Upon breaking through a clump of aspens he saw thedark form of a man in the camp. Cold, then hot, Venters burst intofrenzied speed to reach his guns. He was cursing himself for athoughtless fool when the man's tall form became familiar and herecognized Lassiter. Then the reversal of emotions changed his run toa walk; he tried to call out, but his voice refused to carry; when hereached camp there was Lassiter staring at the white-faced girl. By thattime Ring and Whitie had recognized him.
"Hello, Venters! I'm makin' you a visit," said Lassiter, slowly. "An'I'm some surprised to see you've a--a young feller for company."
One glance had sufficed for the keen rider to read Bess's real sex, andfor once his cool calm had deserted him. He stared till the white ofBess's cheeks flared into crimson. That, if it were needed, was theconcluding evidence of her femininity, for it went fittingly with hersun-tinted hair and darkened, dilated eyes, the sweetness of her mouth,and the striking symmetry of her slender shape.
"Heavens! Lassiter!" panted Venters, when he caught his breath. "Whatrelief--it's only you! How--in the name of all that's wonderful--did youever get here?"
"I trailed you. We--I wanted to know where you was, if you had a safeplace. So I trailed you."
"Trailed me," cried Venters, bluntly.
"I reckon. It was some of a job after I got to them smooth rocks. I wasall day trackin' you up to them little cut steps in the rock. The restwas easy."
"Where's your hoss? I hope you hid him."
"I tied him in them queer cedars down on the slope. He can't be seenfrom the valley."
"That's good. Well, well! I'm completely dumfounded. It was my idea thatno man could track me in here."
"I reckon. But if there's a tracker in these uplands as good as me hecan find you."
"That's bad. That'll worry me. But, Lassiter, now you're here I'm gladto see you. And--and my companion here is not a young fellow!... Bess,this is a friend of mine. He saved my life once."
The embarrassment of the moment did not extend to Lassiter. Almost atonce his manner, as he shook hands with Bess, relieved Venters and putthe girl at ease. After Venters's words and one quick look at Lassiter,her agitation stilled, and, though she was shy, if she were consciousof anything out of the ordinary in the situation, certainly she did notshow it.
"I reckon I'll only stay a little while," Lassiter was saying. "An' ifyou don't mind troublin', I'm hungry. I fetched some biscuits along, butthey're gone. Venters, this place is sure the wonderfullest ever seen.Them cut steps on the slope! That outlet into the gorge! An' it's likeclimbin' up through hell into heaven to climb through that gorge intothis valley! There's a queer-lookin' rock at the top of the passage. Ididn't have time to stop. I'm wonderin' how you ever found this place.It's sure interestin'."
During the preparation and eating of dinner Lassiter listened mostly,as was his wont, and occasionally he spoke in his quaint and dry way.Venters noted, however, that the rider showed an increasing interest inBess. He asked her no questions, and only directed his attention to herwhile she was occupied and had no opportunity to observe his scrutiny.It seemed to Venters that Lassiter grew more and more absorbed in hisstudy of Bess, and that he lost his coolness in some strange, softeningsympathy. Then, quite abruptly, he arose and announced the necessityfor his early departure. He said good-by to Bess in a voice gentle andsomewhat broken, and turned hurriedly away. Venters accompanied him, andthey had traversed the terrace, climbed the weathered slope, and passedunder the stone bridge before either spoke again.
Then Lassiter put a great hand on Venters's shoulder and wheeled him tomeet a smoldering fire of gray eyes.
"Lassiter, I couldn't tell Jane! I couldn't," burst out Venters, readinghis friend's mind. "I tried. But I couldn't. She wouldn't understand,and she has troubles enough. And I love the girl!"
"Venters, I reckon this beats me. I've seen some queer things in mytime, too. This girl--who is she?"
"I don't know."
"Don't know! What is she, then?"
"I don't know that, either. Oh, it's the strangest story you ever heard.I must tell you. But you'll never believe."
"Venters, women were always puzzles to me. But for all that, if thisgirl ain't a child, an' as innocent, I'm no fit person to think ofvirtue an' goodness in anybody. Are you goin' to be square with her?"
"I am--so help me God!"
"I reckoned so. Mebbe my temper oughtn't led me to make sure. But, man,she's a woman in all but years. She's sweeter 'n the sage."
"Lassiter, I know, I know. And the hell of it is that in spite of herinnocence and charm she's--she's not what she seems!"
"I wouldn't want to--of course, I couldn't call you a liar, Venters,"said the older man.
"What's more, she was Oldring's Masked Rider!"
Venters expected to floor his friend with that statement, but he was notin any way prepared for the shock his words gave. For an instant he was
astounded to see Lassiter stunned; then his own passionate eagernessto unbosom himself, to tell the wonderful story, precluded any otherthought.
"Son, tell me all about this," presently said Lassiter as he seatedhimself on a stone and wiped his moist brow.
Thereupon Venters began his narrative at the point where he had shot therustler and Oldring's Masked Rider, and he rushed through it, tellingall, not holding back even Bess's unreserved avowal of her love or hisdeepest emotions.
"That's the story," he said, concluding. "I love her, though I've nevertold her. If I did tell her I'd be ready to marry her, and that seemsimpossible in this country. I'd be afraid to risk taking her anywhere.So I intend to do the best I can for her here."
"The longer I live the stranger life is," mused Lassiter, with downcasteyes. "I'm reminded of somethin' you once said to Jane about hands inher game of life. There's that unseen hand of power, an' Tull's blackhand, an' my red one, an' your indifferent one, an' the girl's littlebrown, helpless one. An', Venters there's another one that's all-wisean' all-wonderful. That's the hand guidin' Jane Withersteen's game oflife!... Your story's one to daze a far clearer head than mine. I can'toffer no advice, even if you asked for it. Mebbe I can help you. Anyway,I'll hold Oldrin' up when he comes to the village an' find out aboutthis girl. I knew the rustler years ago. He'll remember me."
"Lassiter, if I ever meet Oldring I'll kill him!" cried Venters, withsudden intensity.
"I reckon that'd be perfectly natural," replied the rider.
"Make him think Bess is dead--as she is to him and that old life."
"Sure, sure, son. Cool down now. If you're goin' to begin pullin' gunson Tull an' Oldin' you want to be cool. I reckon, though, you'd betterkeep hid here. Well, I must be leavin'."
"One thing, Lassiter. You'll not tell Jane about Bess? Please don't!"
"I reckon not. But I wouldn't be afraid to bet that after she'd gotover anger at your secrecy--Venters, she'd be furious once in herlife!--she'd think more of you. I don't mind sayin' for myself that Ithink you're a good deal of a man."
In the further ascent Venters halted several times with the intention ofsaying good-by, yet he changed his mind and kept on climbing till theyreached Balancing Rock. Lassiter examined the huge rock, listened toVenters's idea of its position and suggestion, and curiously placed astrong hand upon it.
"Hold on!" cried Venters. "I heaved at it once and have never gottenover my scare."
"Well, you do seem uncommon nervous," replied Lassiter, much amused."Now, as for me, why I always had the funniest notion to roll stones!When I was a kid I did it, an' the bigger I got the bigger stones I'droll. Ain't that funny? Honest--even now I often get off my hoss just totumble a big stone over a precipice, en' watch it drop, en' listen to itbang an' boom. I've started some slides in my time, an' don't you forgetit. I never seen a rock I wanted to roll as bad as this one! Wouldn'tthere jest be roarin', crashin' hell down that trail?"
"You'd close the outlet forever!" exclaimed Venters. "Well, good-by,Lassiter. Keep my secret and don't forget me. And be mighty careful howyou get out of the valley below. The rustlers' canyon isn't more thanthree miles up the Pass. Now you've tracked me here, I'll never feelsafe again."
In his descent to the valley, Venters's emotion, roused to stirringpitch by the recital of his love story, quieted gradually, and in itsplace came a sober, thoughtful mood. All at once he saw that he wasserious, because he would never more regain his sense of security whilein the valley. What Lassiter could do another skilful tracker mightduplicate. Among the many riders with whom Venters had ridden herecalled no one who could have taken his trail at Cottonwoods and havefollowed it to the edge of the bare slope in the pass, let alone up thatglistening smooth stone. Lassiter, however, was not an ordinary rider.Instead of hunting cattle tracks he had likely spent a goodly portionof his life tracking men. It was not improbable that among Oldring'srustlers there was one who shared Lassiter's gift for trailing. And themore Venters dwelt on this possibility the more perturbed he grew.
Lassiter's visit, moreover, had a disquieting effect upon Bess, andVenters fancied that she entertained the same thought as to futureseclusion. The breaking of their solitude, though by a well-meaningfriend, had not only dispelled all its dream and much of its charm, buthad instilled a canker of fear. Both had seen the footprint in the sand.
Venters did no more work that day. Sunset and twilight gave way tonight, and the canyon bird whistled its melancholy notes, and the windsang softly in the cliffs, and the camp-fire blazed and burned down tored embers. To Venters a subtle difference was apparent in all of these,or else the shadowy change had been in him. He hoped that on the morrowthis slight depression would have passed away.
In that measure, however, he was doomed to disappointment. Furthermore,Bess reverted to a wistful sadness that he had not observed in her sinceher recovery. His attempt to cheer her out of it resulted in dismalfailure, and consequently in a darkening of his own mood. Hard workrelieved him; still, when the day had passed, his unrest returned.Then he set to deliberate thinking, and there came to him the startlingconviction that he must leave Surprise Valley and take Bess with him.As a rider he had taken many chances, and as an adventurer in DeceptionPass he had unhesitatingly risked his life, but now he would run nopreventable hazard of Bess's safety and happiness, and he was too keennot to see that hazard. It gave him a pang to think of leaving thebeautiful valley just when he had the means to establish a permanentand delightful home there. One flashing thought tore in hot temptationthrough his mind--why not climb up into the gorge, roll Balancing Rockdown the trail, and close forever the outlet to Deception Pass? "Thatwas the beast in me--showing his teeth!" muttered Venters, scornfully."I'll just kill him good and quick! I'll be fair to this girl, if it'sthe last thing I do on earth!"
Another day went by, in which he worked less and pondered more andall the time covertly watched Bess. Her wistfulness had deepened intodownright unhappiness, and that made his task to tell her all theharder. He kept the secret another day, hoping by some chance she mightgrow less moody, and to his exceeding anxiety she fell into far deepergloom. Out of his own secret and the torment of it he divined that she,too, had a secret and the keeping of it was torturing her. As yet he hadno plan thought out in regard to how or when to leave the valley, buthe decided to tell her the necessity of it and to persuade her to go.Furthermore, he hoped his speaking out would induce her to unburden herown mind.
"Bess, what's wrong with you?" he asked.
"Nothing," she answered, with averted face.
Venters took hold of her gently, though masterfully, forced her to meethis eyes.
"You can't look at me and lie," he said. "Now--what's wrong with you?You're keeping something from me. Well, I've got a secret, too, and Iintend to tell it presently."
"Oh--I have a secret. I was crazy to tell you when you came back.That's why I was so silly about everything. I kept holding my secretback--gloating over it. But when Lassiter came I got an idea--thatchanged my mind. Then I hated to tell you."
"Are you going to now?"
"Yes--yes. I was coming to it. I tried yesterday, but you were so cold.I was afraid. I couldn't keep it much longer."
"Very well, most mysterious lady, tell your wonderful secret."
"You needn't laugh," she retorted, with a first glimpse of revivingspirit. "I can take the laugh out of you in one second."
"It's a go."
She ran through the spruces to the cave, and returned carrying somethingwhich was manifestly heavy. Upon nearer view he saw that whatever sheheld with such evident importance had been bound up in a black scarfhe well remembered. That alone was sufficient to make him tingle withcuriosity.
"Have you any idea what I did in your absence?" she asked.
"I imagine you lounged about, waiting and watching for me," he replied,smiling. "I've my share of conceit, you know."
"You're wrong. I worked. Look at my hands." She dropped on her kneesclose to where he sat, and,
carefully depositing the black bundle, sheheld out her hands. The palms and inside of her fingers were white,puckered, and worn.
"Why, Bess, you've been fooling in the water," he said.
"Fooling? Look here!" With deft fingers she spread open the black scarf,and the bright sun shone upon a dull, glittering heap of gold.
"Gold!" he ejaculated.
"Yes, gold! See, pounds of gold! I found it--washed it out of thestream--picked it out grain by grain, nugget by nugget!"
"Gold!" he cried.
"Yes. Now--now laugh at my secret!"
For a long minute Venters gazed. Then he stretched forth a hand to feelif the gold was real.
"Gold!" he almost shouted. "Bess, there are hundreds--thousands ofdollars' worth here!"
He leaned over to her, and put his hand, strong and clenching now, onhers.
"Is there more where this came from?" he whispered.
"Plenty of it, all the way up the stream to the cliff. You know I'veoften washed for gold. Then I've heard the men talk. I think there's nogreat quantity of gold here, but enough for--for a fortune for you."
"That--was--your--secret!"
"Yes. I hate gold. For it makes men mad. I've seen them drunk with joyand dance and fling themselves around. I've seen them curse and rave.I've seen them fight like dogs and roll in the dust. I've seen them killeach other for gold."
"Is that why you hated to tell me?"
"Not--not altogether." Bess lowered her head. "It was because I knewyou'd never stay here long after you found gold."
"You were afraid I'd leave you?"
"Yes.
"Listen!... You great, simple child! Listen... You sweet, wonderful, wild,blue-eyed girl! I was tortured by my secret. It was that I knew we--wemust leave the valley. We can't stay here much longer. I couldn't thinkhow we'd get away--out of the country--or how we'd live, if we ever gotout. I'm a beggar. That's why I kept my secret. I'm poor. It takes moneyto make way beyond Sterling. We couldn't ride horses or burros or walkforever. So while I knew we must go, I was distracted over how to goand what to do. Now! We've gold! Once beyond Sterling, we'll be safe fromrustlers. We've no others to fear.
"Oh! Listen! Bess!" Venters now heard his voice ringing high and sweet,and he felt Bess's cold hands in his crushing grasp as she leaned towardhim pale, breathless. "This is how much I'd leave you! You made me liveagain! I'll take you away--far away from this wild country. You'll begina new life. You'll be happy. You shall see cities, ships, people. Youshall have anything your heart craves. All the shame and sorrow of yourlife shall be forgotten--as if they had never been. This is how much I'dleave you here alone--you sad-eyed girl. I love you! Didn't you know it?How could you fail to know it? I love you! I'm free! I'm a man--a manyou've made--no more a beggar!... Kiss me! This is how much I'd leaveyou here alone--you beautiful, strange, unhappy girl. But I'll make youhappy. What--what do I care for--your past! I love you! I'll take youhome to Illinois--to my mother. Then I'll take you to far places. I'llmake up all you've lost. Oh, I know you love me--knew it before you toldme. And it changed my life. And you'll go with me, not as my companionas you are here, nor my sister, but, Bess, darling!... As my wife!"
