The Forfeit

by Ridgwell Cullum

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE KNOCKING ON THE DOOR

  It seemed like the hand of Destiny that Elvine van Blooren shouldwander across the path of Jeffrey Masters at a moment when all thefruits of his ambition seemed to be falling into his outspread-hands.It was surely the work of Fate that instant recognition of herdesirability leaped in his heart, so that some six weeks later theyshould set out on their life's journey together on the eastward boundmail train, which bore, in its foremost van, the mails for the worldoutside, gathered in from every district in the region of Calthorpe.

  Their happiness was perfect. In six weeks' time the metamorphosis inthe woman had been as complete as it was in the case of the man.

  For the man it seemed that life had opened out an entirely new vista.He had warmed under the influence of his new passion. The angles inhis character seemed to have softened. Achievement had receded intoits due proportion in his focus. The world had become peopled withwarm living creatures whose strivings were now a source of sympathy tohim. Life no longer moved about him detached, unappealing.

  So with the woman. Elvine van Blooren's past was her own. Whatever itwas she hugged it to herself, and the very process of doing so hadhelped to harden her.

  But she possessed fires she had wilfully hidden, even from herself.For four years she had lived a life of desperate calculation againstall those things she most dreaded, till she felt she had convertedherself into a machine free from all trammeling emotions, equippedsolely to execute the purpose she had set her mind on.

  These fires were awakened early. Their awakening had been all unknownto her. Yet she had admitted them when she had warned her mother thatshe intended to "like" the man she ultimately married. Allsubconsciously she had "liked" Jeffrey Masters from their first formalmeeting. Further acquaintance had deepened her liking. The keen eyespossessed strong qualities of appeal. The decision of his clean-cutface suggested all that strength which appealed to her.

  The culmination was reached long before the appointed day of theirwedding. It came at the moment he definitely asked her to become hiswife. It had been a moment to her than which she had dreamed ofnothing more sublime. The flood-gates had been literally forced openbefore a tide of sudden passion, which left her gasping, and somethingincredulous. Where was all the result of her years of hardcalculation? Where was that machine upon which she had gazed with somuch confident pride? It had only served her just so long as wasrequired to realize that Jeffrey Masters was sufficiently desirable tofulfil the purposes of the life she had marked out for herself. Then,the primitive woman in her had abandoned herself to the glowing firesburning deep within her young heart.

  Thus the bond held them both through delicious days, which so littletime before had seemed impossible to either. Thus the time drew ontoward the golden day of consummation. And with each passing dayfirmer and firmer, more and more irresistible, grew the ties underwhich they were held.

  As the local press had foreshadowed, the event of their marriage provedof primary social importance. All Calthorpe speeded them upon theirlife's journey, and the east-bound mail bore them away with the echo ofcheery farewells, and every other form of speeding, dying pleasantlyaway behind them. So, too, the snake-like string of coaches bore theburden of Destiny in the great uninteresting, padlocked baskets andbags which contained the mail.

  The days of the honeymoon had been carefully thought out by Elvine.Her wishes had been supreme. Toronto was their first destination. Acity whose bright, pleasant life appealed to her more, perhaps, eventhan any of the great cities of the greater world.

  Perfect happiness was theirs from the moment of their departureeastward. No cloud drifted in sight during their first day in thegreat hotel from which they intended to view the life of Toronto. Thencame the second morning, and the--mail.

  They occupied a suite of rooms upon the first floor of the hotel. Itoverlooked the wide portico which supported a deep balcony devoted totheir sole use. Jeff was alone in the luxurious sitting-room when themail was brought in by a waiter. He was glancing down the morningpaper while he waited for Elvine, who was preparing for a morning roundof the stores.

  His attention for the news he read was less than scant. It is doubtfulif he read more than the head-lines, and these only with partialunderstanding. His mind was upon the beautiful woman in the adjacentapartment arraying herself with all the arts of a woman in love for thebenefit of the man whose regard is alone worth while.

  His eyes were smiling unconsciously; something of the keenness of hiswhole expression had become lost under their new expression. Dressedin the simple garb of civilization he had little about him, beyond theintense sunburn of his face, to remind one of the urgent young ranchmanwho had first planned the combination which was to develop into thefamous Obar Ranch.

  At the arrival of the mail he flung his paper aside. Then he picked upeach letter in turn, examined the address, and set aside, in a separatepile, those addressed to his wife. Of his own there were only four,and, of these, only the one addressed in Bud's cumbersome handwritinginterested him seriously.

  Before opening it he pierced and lit a cigar. He felt that from itsbulk the letter must contain important reports from the ranch, and,coming at such a time, would need the steadying influence of a cigar toenable him to give them the consideration necessary.

  He lounged back in the big chair and leisurely tore open the envelope.

  * * * * * *

  The door communicating with the principal bedroom opened noiselessly.Elvine entered the sitting-room, accompanied by that delightful rustleof silk which is quite irresistible to male ears. At all times abeautiful woman, just now she was incomparable.

  A joy of life lit every feature, endowing her with an animation ofexpression unrecognizable in her a few short weeks ago. There was amelting lustre in her dark eyes, a gentleness in the smiling corners ofher irresistible mouth. Her cheeks, even, seemed to have gained anadded softness of contour. While the masses of dark hair revealedbeneath her hat shone with the burnish of the raven's wing.

  Her husband had turned on the instant. His cigar was flung aside. Amoment later he was on his feet, and his arms, full of vital impulse,came near to destroying the perfection of her toilet.

  The woman made no protest under the embrace. It told her so manythings she wanted to know. It told her of the love she now so franklydesired. It told her, too, that the efforts on her toilet had not beenill-spent.

  Presently Jeff stood back, holding her at arm's length, while hishungry eyes devoured every feature of the face that had taught him somuch of the real meaning of life.

  "Splendid--just splendid!" he exclaimed.

  "My--gown?"

  The smile was enticing. The man laughed out of the buoyancy of hisheart.

  "No--you!" he cried, leaning forward for the embrace she had invited.

  A moment later he stood back again, and Elvine's eyes fell upon themail lying upon the table.

  "Some for me?" she inquired, moving toward it.

  Jeff nodded. Then his smile died out. His gaze had fallen upon hisown open letter. It was lying upon the table near the pile set asidefor his wife, just where he had flung it down at the moment of herentrance.

  "Quite a few," he said.

  The unsmiling nature of his response had caught Elvine's attention.But she picked up her letters and glanced hastily through them.

  A moment later her eyes came back to his face.

  "Aren't you going to finish yours?" she inquired.

  She was seeking the meaning of that suddenly banished smile.

  It was almost with eagerness that the man caught at the opportunity.

  "It's from Bud, and--I guess it's important. I've only two or threepages more."

  He picked the letter up and sorted the sheets into order. Elvinewatched him. She wanted to ask a dozen questions. But she put none ofthem.

  "He's your partner," was all she said.

/>   "Yep," he nodded, with his eyes on the pages.

  Then Elvine voiced something of her real feelings of the moment.

  "I just hate mail," she said, with what seemed unnecessary force, asshe began to draw on her gloves. "It always worries me to death. Ithink it scares me. Makes me think of death, or disaster, or--or billsand things." She laughed. "Maybe it's my pessimistic nature makes mefeel that way. When things are all sunshiny and fine, why, it kind offeels to me there are clouds around. Nasty, mean, hateful shadowslurking, full of----"

  "Hell for some one, eh?"

  There was a wry twist to the man's lips as he smiled his reply.

  "Guess that's how it is with mine," he went on. "I'll just read thesepages, and then we'll get going. Eh?"

  The woman's watchful eye smiled assent and she continued to draw hergloves on. But her observation of him seemed to gather intensity themoment he became absorbed in the clumsy, unskilled handwriting.

  The last vestige of his smile had gone. His fair brows had knitted ina troubled frown. He seemed to read eagerly but intently, absorbed toan unusual degree.

  She realized the seriousness of that letter. And for some curiousreason alarm supervened. He had spoken of it easily, but his manner ofreading denied his spoken word.

  The silent moments irked her. The rustle of the paper in his hands. Afeeling of foreboding grew, a feeling she knew was foolish, but whichat the same time was irresistible. She found herself speculating as tothe contents of the letter. She strove to review all the possibilitieswhich the great Obar Ranch could offer for disaster. And her minddrifted back over years to a memory that gave her not a shadow ofcomfort.

  The last button of her gloves had been secured when the refolding ofthe letter came. Jeff deliberately, but abstractedly, returned it toits cover. His smile was scarcely a happy one when he finally lookedup.

  "I'm through, sweetheart," he said. "Shall we----?"

  But Elvine's feelings would no longer be denied.

  "Serious as all that?" she demanded. The next moment she would havegiven worlds to have been able to recall the words.

  "I'm afraid it is--in a way."

  Elvine had no option but to continue the subject. She spoke with realfeeling.

  "May I know, dear?" she appealed. "You see, Jeff, things often readworse than they are. Maybe I can help. I've a clearer head than you'dguess."

  The man's cheeks flushed. He had distressed her, frightened her, andthe thought of it annoyed him. He stepped toward her, his handsoutheld. She responded, and her hands were caught in his firm warmclasp.

  "Say, I'm just sorry. I surely am. Guess I've no sort of rightscaring you. Anyway, there's nothing to be scared about. Just a bunchof rustlers----"

  "Cattle thieves?"

  The woman's whole expression had become transformed. The announcementhad shocked her out of her self-possession. Her smile had fled. Hereyes were wide, and their dark depths were full of a horror that seemedquite uncalled for. Even her cheeks had lost their delicate bloom.Her gaze was held fast by the man's steady regard. It was almost afascinated stare held under some powerful hypnotic influence.

  The man was at a loss. But he promptly claimed the fault to himself.

  "Don't just worry a thing, Evie," he cried, in real distress. "Itdon't amount to anything. And anyway you don't need to worry. We candeal with it. I best tell you right away. You see, it's their secondplay since I've been from home. Bud's feeling sore. First it was agreat imported bull they shot up while they ran off his cows, and adandy bunch of yearling prize stock. Now--now it's a swell bunch offifty beeves that had been fattening for the buyers. The loss don'thurt. Oh, no, it's not that."

  He paused. Somehow their hands fell apart, and, to the woman, nowrecovering herself, it was as though some shadow had thrust itselfbetween them. She waited, vaguely troubled. Somehow speech for themoment had become impossible to her. She was thinking, thinking farback amidst scenes she had no desire to recall.

  Her husband went on. His manner had lost all the contrition he haddisplayed at alarming her. It was abstracted. He too seemed to bethinking deeply, far away amidst scenes which afforded him only thedeepest pain.

  "I've just thought," he said. Then he raised one strong hand andpassed it across his broad forehead. He drew a profound sigh. "Say, Iwonder," he went on reflectively. "It's things Bud's said in his yarn.Suspicions. They brought up all sorts of queer things to my mind."

  The smile he essayed was a hopeless failure. Then, in a moment, alldoubt seemed to pass away and he spoke with quick, keen decision.

  "I'll have to tell you, Evie. You'd sort of made me forget. Thesedays have been the happiest I've ever known, and you've made 'em so.That's how I forgot to tell you of things I guess you ought to know."

  But the woman before him had no desire for his present mood. Shesmilingly shook her head in a decided negative. The last thing shedesired was anything in the nature of a confidence.

  "Is there any need--now?" she asked. Then she smiled. "The stores arewaiting."

  But she had yet to learn the real character of the man whom she hadmarried. She had yet to understand the meaning of the simple sobriquet"Honest Jeff," which Nan Tristram had long since bestowed upon him. Hewas not the man to be turned from a decision once taken. The decisionon this occasion was arrived at through the depth of the passionatedevotion which controlled his every thought. His love for Elvine madehis purpose only the more irrevocable.

  "I think they had best wait a shade longer," he said with a shadowysmile. "You see, Evie, I kind of figure there's things that mattermore than just gathering in the fancy goods money'll buy--even for you.Guess I owe you most everything a man can give, the same as you feeltoward me. That's how marriage--marriage like ours--seems to me. Asfar as I can make it there's not going to be a thing on my consciencetoward you. I'd have told you this before, only--only you just droveit right out of my head with the sight of your beautiful face, thesound of your voice, which I just love, and the thought that you--youwere to be my wife. You see," he went on simply, "I hadn't room in myhead for anything else."

  His manner was so firmly gentle that Elvine's protest melted before it.After all it was very sweet, and--and---- She drew a chair forward andsat down. But her smile hid her real feelings. Confidences,confessions, even from a husband, were repugnant to her.

  Jeff remained standing. He gazed for a few silent moments in thedirection of the open window. The expression of his blue eyessuggested a deep, searching introspection. He might have beensearching for an opening. Again, he might simply have been reviewingscenes which stirred his innermost soul with their horror and pain.

  At last, however, Elvine made a half impatient movement. Instantly theblue eyes turned in her direction, and their expression startled her.They were full of a stony, passionless regard. Not for her, butinspired by the thought behind them. She shivered under their gaze andtheir impression upon her was never afterward obliterated.

  "It's four years past now," he began, in a voice she scarcelyrecognized. "These rustlers brought it all back to me. Say, Evie, Ihad a twin brother, Ronald. Maybe that won't convey much. I sort ofloved him--better than myself. That's all. He was a bit queer. Imean he just didn't care a heap for running along the main trail ofthings. He was apt to get all mussed up running around byways. Well,when Bud and I fixed up the Obar partnership, I was just crazy to huntRonny down, and hand him a share. Bud's a great feller, and I toldhim. I knew whereabouts the boy had staked out, and, figuring we'dearned a vacation, Bud and I set out to round him up, and hand him apiece which I guessed would keep him with me the rest of his life."

  He paused. He drew a deep breath, and his eyes, hard as marble, hadturned again in the direction of the window.

  Elvine was held even against herself. The expression of his eyes, evenmore than the curious sharpness of his voice, troubled her, alarmed her.

  "I'm not going to yarn more t
han necessary," he went on after a moment."There isn't any need. I just want to give you the deadly facts. As Isaid, I knew his layout, where he was--supposed to be trapping pelts.Supposed. Bud had been raised in the district, so he acted scout. Hemade the location and found him. D'you know how?"

  There was a restrained fierceness in the sharp demand.

  The woman shook her head. Any word would have seemed out of place.

  "Hanging by the neck to the bough of a tree."

  "Jeff, don't!" the woman gasped.

  But now there was a smile in the man's eyes. It was a terrible smilewhich drove every vestige of color from his wife's cheeks.

  "I had to tell you," he cried harshly. "They hanged him for a cattlethief. He was one. Oh, yes. He was one. That's why I had to tellyou."

  The woman's eyes were wide with a sudden terror to which the manremained oblivious.

  "But you said----"

  "I said he was pelt hunting. So he'd told me. So I believed. But hewasn't. Say, he was a cattle rustler running a big gang who'd playedhell with the district. He'd been running it for nigh five years.He'd beaten 'em to a mush, all that time, till a reward was offered. Areward of ten thousand dollars. That fixed him. There was some oneknew wanted that reward, and--got it."

  There was a sudden movement in the room. Elvine had abruptly risenfrom her chair. She moved away. She crossed to the window, and stoodwith her back turned, and so had thrust herself into her husband'sfocus.

  "It's--it's a terrible--dreadful story," came her faltering comment.

  "Terrible? Dreadful?" The man emitted a sound that might have been alaugh. A shudder passed down the woman's back as it fell upon herears. "But it's nothing to the reality, Evie. Oh, I've no sympathyfor his crimes. I hate rustlers like the poison they are. But he wastwin to me, and I loved him. It made no difference to me. You see, hewas part of me. Now--now I only hope the good God'll let me come upwith the man who took the price of his blood. For four years I'vedreamed that way, and I guess it don't matter if it's fifty more. I'llnever change. There's some one, somewhere, who's lower down than theworst cattle rustler ever lived."

  There was no response as the man ceased speaking. Elvine had notstirred from her place at the window. The moments passed. Swift,poignant moments, in which two people were enduring an agony ofrecollection.

  The man's relentless expression never changed. His eyes were gazingstraight ahead. And though his vision was obstructed by the perfectcontours of his wife's figure, he was gazing through her, and beyondher, upon a scene which had for its central interest the suspendedfigure of a man with his head lolling forward and sideways, and hisdead eyes bulging from their sockets.

  Elvine never stirred. Her gaze was upon the crowded thoroughfarebeyond. But like her husband, she was gazing through and beyond. Shewas watching the tongues of flame as they licked up the resinous trunksand foliage of a great pine bluff.

  At length it was the woman's voice broke the silence.

  "Where--where did this all happen?"

  The question was the verbal expression of a despairing hope. Thevoice, however, was steady.

  "In the Cathills."

  "The Lightfoot gang?"

  "Yes. That's what he called it. You knew of them?"

  There was a slight movement of the woman's shoulders. It was thefaintest possible shrug.

  "Everybody in Calthorpe heard of them."

  Then she turned and faced him. The mask with which she confronted himwas perfect. Her dark beauty was unimpaired by a sign of emotion.Even her cheeks had returned to their customary delicate bloom. Hereyes shone with a world of sympathy as she came toward him.

  "Jeff, don't think of it all--now, dear. It's too, too dreadful.Guess I was wrong to let you tell me. I certainly was. It's past.It's done with. Nothing can ever bring him back to you. To dwell uponit, to think and feel that way, will only serve to embitter your life.Say, try, Jeff. I'll help you, dear. I will. Sure. Sure. Won't youtry, for--my sake?"

  The man took her hands in his. He drew her toward him. The strainedexpression of his eyes melted before her perfect beauty.

  "I'll try, Evie," he said, without conviction. Then he kissed her.

  After a while she looked up.

  "And the stores, Jeff?"

  The man smiled down in response.

  "Sure--the stores."