CHAPTER FORTY
The wind beat the windows and screamed like a living thing in maniacalrage; it struck the door and whipped the trees, tearing away branchesand throwing them down the canyon. One crash barely died in the distantrumble when another crash succeeded. A cloud-burst added to the wildnessof the scene.
The flashes that lit the huge cliffs about the Circle Cross, revealed arain-sodden figure mounted on an exhausted, stumbling horse back of thelittle ranch-house. The horse picked its way uncertainly until itreached the shelter of the stable shed. Glendon slipped stiffly from itsback and opening the door, led the animal into an empty stall. The horsestumbled and Glendon gave it a vicious kick as he cursed it.
Fox stopped munching his hay to poke an inquisitive nose across at thestranger, while Glendon started to unbuckle the saddle-bags. As helifted them, he saw a saddled horse in the stall on the opposite side ofFox. Cursing his luck, the man tossed the saddle-bags back on the horsehe had ridden, and adjusted them hastily. Then he reached up behind thehay at the end of the stable and extracted a bottle of whiskey which hehad put there just before his arrest. After taking a couple of copiousdrinks, he thrust the bottle into his coat pocket and mounted the horsewhose stiffened movements told that it was badly foundered. Glendon dughis heels into the heaving sides, and the animal with low hanging head,stumbled wearily through the trees directly back of the house.
Glendon checked the horse at a point where the dense undergrowthprotected him, yet allowed a view of the house and stables in theflashes of lightning. He wondered who could be there at that hour,unless Chappo were visiting old Juan. Had the unknown rider intended toremain all night, the strange horse would have been unsaddled. Glendonsat shivering until overcome with curiosity and the knowledge that eachmoment's delay was dangerous, he dismounted, tied his horse and creptcautiously to the side of the house where he peered through the creviceof a broken window shutter. Possibly some one had already reached theCircle Cross from Willcox, and was now waiting to catch him if heappeared.
Through the shutter he saw Powell and Katherine. The noise of the stormdeafened their voices, but the man outside read the story in theirfaces. He saw Powell lift Katherine's hand to his lips.
Glendon started in fury. He reached for the pistol he had taken from thejail; but remembering that he needed his wife's assistance, decided thathis vengeance could wait. He would let the man go, but the woman shouldpay for both. Later Powell should know of it. Glendon's lips twisted ina vicious smile.
When Powell started toward the door, Glendon shrank against the adobewall where the chimney jutted out. The doctor passed him, entered thestable, then Glendon watched him ride swiftly toward the Hot Springs.Feeling secure from other intruders, Glendon returned to the horse andled it to the stable where he unsaddled it. He made his plans. Fox hadnever been branded, so would not be easily identified, and with his ownsaddle he would be fairly safe, once he reached the Mexican border.
No one would ever suspect Katherine of having the gold, and when he feltsafe, she could come to him with it. It was a good thing Panchita wasout of the way, now.
He grasped the heavy saddlebags and staggered to the dark and silenthouse. Tatters, hearing the approaching steps, barked fiercely. Glendontwisted the knob, but the door was locked. He knocked sharply.
"One minute," he heard Katherine call. "Is that you, Juan?"
Glendon did not reply. Then the door opened and Katherine, with abathrobe over her thin white gown and her bare feet thrust into a pairof shabby little kid slippers, saw her husband, dripping from the rain,brush past her into the room. Tatters ran up but received a kick, whileGlendon dropped the gold-laden bags with a dull thud on the floor.
"Damn that brute!" he snarled. "Make him quit his noise and keep out ofmy way if you don't want him killed!"
The collie crept under the bed and Glendon threw off his streaming coat.
"God! What a night!"
Katherine stared at him, dazed and uncomprehending. He regarded her witha nasty smile.
"Well, you don't seem overjoyed to see me," he sneered. "Nice wifelyreception I get. Thought I was locked up for good, I suppose. Didn'texpect any visitors tonight, eh?"
The significance of his remark did not penetrate her thoughts. She stoodsilently looking at him, trying to understand how he was here, waitinghis explanation.
Glendon turned in rage. "What do you mean standing there staring like anidiot?" he demanded. "This is no time to waste. Get a move on you. Iwant some grub and dry clothes."
Mechanically, dumbly, she hastened to obey him. Glendon ate the foodthat she set before him, then he finished with several drinks from thebottle in his pocket. The warmth of the room began to effect his head,after drinking; it loosened his tongue. The woman who watched him withdead eyes, made no comment.
"Wentz knocked the deputy over and tied him and opened the jail doors,"he bragged as he ate. "They didn't find it out for some time, and whenthey saw us it was so dark they could not keep track of me among therocks. They shot Wentz's horse and he killed himself. Damn him! Itserved him right. If he had held his tongue at the trial, Alpaugh and Iwould have escaped conviction. Then we could have helped them all as wepromised to do. Alpaugh and Bravo Juan kept together. I've got to keepmoving. They got me in the leg, it's only a scratch."
He limped across the room and dragged the saddlebags to the table. Withtrembling hands he unfastened the straps and let the gold flow out in adull, glowing stream, fingering it caressingly. "Take care of this moneyuntil I write to or send word where you can join me with it;" heordered. "I'm going to cut across to the Mexican border; then work myway down to South America. Any man speaking Spanish can get along there.It's a country where they don't ask too many questions. There's tenthousand dollars," he ran his hands over the coins. "That will give me agood start down there. I'll write you under the name of Reese, but notfor five or six months. I'll have to cover my tracks pretty well, or theFederal officers will locate me. I'll take Fox and my own saddle. Idon't want Juan to know I'm here tonight; but after I leave, you muststart him out to the Rim Rock with the horse I rode tonight. Tell him tohide the saddle and shoot the horse and skin it, and bury the hide.He'll do anything that you ask him, and won't talk."
"Juan sold your saddle after the trial. We needed money so badly," saidthe woman slowly.
"Then I'll take Juan's. I dare not risk using the one I rode tonight,nor the horse, either."
"Juan is riding his own saddle. He won't be back for several days. He istrying to trade some colts."
Glendon paced the room cursing his ill-luck as he saw his carefullyformed plans disintegrate. He bit his knuckles nervously as he tried todecide what to do. Katherine leaned across the table as Glendon pausedand once more ran his fingers through the coins. She looked up and hiseyes met hers.
"Where did you get that gold, Jim?" she asked quietly.
"None of your business," he retorted, deceived by her even tones. "It'smine--do you hear? Mine! No one else can claim it!"
"No one else can claim it," she echoed. Then her eyes widened. "It isPaddy's money!" she cried.
Glendon shrugged his shoulders. "What of it? He buried his money andevery one knew it. He had no one belonging to him. It is Paddy's money!Now, what have you got to say about it?"
"You found that money first and killed him afterwards," she saidtensely. "Oh! I knew there was something wrong when you killed him." Sherecoiled in horror.
"I was acquitted," he faced her like a trapped coyote. "No one can proveit wasn't self-defence! You're my wife and you've got to hold yourtongue!"
Possibly the repugnance in her face stung, for he reeled to her sidewith an oath. She looked at him unafraid and the knowledge that he hadno more power over her goaded him to frenzy.
His clenched fist was lifted and brought down with a crashing blow inher face. She fell against the sharp edge of the window-ledge, clingingblindly as she struggled to her feet, but he knew she was unconquered.Dragging the pistol from his b
elt, he hurled the loaded weapon at her.It struck the window casing a few inches above her head, then dropped tothe floor, the black composition handle shattered, leaving only thesteel rim, but the cartridges failed to explode.
Glendon glared at her as she stood panting against the wall, her whiteface contrasting vividly with the blood that oozed from cuts on cheekand lip--the eyes that regarded him held no fear. She knew that deathwas standing beside her, but it seemed a welcome friend, withoutstretched, sheltering arms.
"I'll make you understand that you are my wife," the man startedthreateningly toward her, his hand reaching down to pick up the pistolon the floor. Neither of them saw the dog which had been watching frombeneath the bed, and now was dragging itself stealthily forth, its lipstwitching, its eyes blazing in fury. With a sudden spring, it caughtGlendon's hand in its strong, gleaming teeth.
The man's curses mingled with deep-throated growls, and as they fought,the woman stood dumb, unable to move. The blood on her face drippedslowly on the white gown. There was a shot, and Glendon rose to hisfeet, kicking the dog that lay dying on the floor.
With a cry of pity, Katherine stooped, and the brute that had given itslife in an effort to protect her, lifted its head feebly and licked herhand. Then with its eyes on her face, it gave a convulsive shudder. Withquivering lips and trembling hand she laid it down on the floor, roseand faced her husband.
"Will you do what I tell you?" he demanded.
"No! You can kill me as you have killed Tatters, but I will not touchthat money!"
He leaped at her, caught her by the throat and flung her violently tothe floor. Weak, voiceless, still unconquered, he watched her dragherself again to her feet. He levelled the pistol at her head. She didnot flinch as she faced it.
Glendon thrust it back into the holster. "Damn you! I'll get alongwithout you; but I won't kill you. I'm going to kill that dude doctorand see how you like that to remember me by!"
He poured more liquor, then bending under the weight of the saddle bags,he strode through the door.
Katherine stood dazed, staring down at the dead dog on the floor, asthough her brain had ceased working. Outside, in a lull of the storm,sounded the sharp beat of hoofs. Glendon was riding past the house.
"He is taking the road to the Springs, Tatters," she said slowly, hereyes on the dead dog as she spoke to it. There were chains on herbrain;--it could not think; chains on her hands and feet--she could notmove.
A tiny red stream was creeping over the wooden floor toward her and shewondered what she would do when it reached her. Fascinated she watchedit, then when it touched the hem of her gown making a stain like thoseabove it, she woke in a wild frenzy of despair.
"No! No!" she cried flinging the door open. "I will do anything youwish, Jim! Come back! Come back!"
But Glendon was gone. The wind tore and lashed the curtains with the gaycretonne bands. It blew out the flame of the lamp and the rain beat downon the bright Navajo rugs and the dead dog lying on the floor.
The woman ran to the stable. The heavy door banged on broken hinges. Sheclung to the empty stall and thought she saw her husband riding up tothe Hot Springs Ranch. She saw him jump from his horse and knock at thedoor--Saw Powell open that door, and then--she saw a tiny red streamtrickling across the wooden floor.
Without stopping to reason that she had no chance against a man on ahorse, she turned and faced the storm. The wind whipped her long, darkhair across her face and tore the robe back from the thin white gown.Her slippers, rain-soaked, dropped from her bare feet, and the sharpstones cut the tender flesh. She ran on, unconscious of everythingexcept the knowledge that Powell--the man she loved--was in danger.
Slowly and more slowly she ran, her breath coming in sharp little gaspsthat hurt. She staggered a few more feet, then with a tired sigh, sankto the ground, trying with her last conscious thought to rememberwhether it was Tatters or Doctor Powell lying dead, where the littlescarlet thread kept creeping--creeping--creeping--.
The Long Dim Trail Page 40
