The Valley of the Giants

by Peter B. Kyne

  CHAPTER XVI

  With the descent upon his breast of the limp body of his bigwoods-bully, Colonel Pennington had been struck to earth as effectivelyas if a fair-sized tree had fallen on him. Indeed, with such force didhis proud head collide with terra firma that had it not been for thesoft cushion of ferns and tiny redwood twigs, his neck must have beenbroken by the shock. To complete his withdrawal from active service, thelast whiff of breath had been driven from his lungs; and for the spaceof a minute, during which Jules Rondeau lay heavily across his midriff,the Colonel was quite unable to get it back. Pale, gasping, and jarredfrom soul to suspenders, he was merely aware that something unexpectedand disconcerting had occurred.

  While the Colonel fought for his breath, his woodsmen remained inthe offing, paralyzed into inactivity by reason of the swiftness andthoroughness of Bryce Cardigan's work; then Shirley motioned to them toremove the wreckage, and they hastened to obey.

  Freed from the weight on the geometric centre of his being, ColonelPennington stretched his legs, rolled his head from side to side, andsnorted violently several times like a buck. After the sixth snort hefelt so much better that a clear understanding of the exact nature ofthe catastrophe came to him; he struggled and sat up, looking around alittle wildly.

  "Where--did--Cardigan--go?" he gasped.

  One of his men pointed to the timber into which the enemy had justdisappeared.

  "Surround him--take him," Pennington ordered. "I'll give--a month'spay--to each of--the six men that bring--that scoundrel to me. Gethim--quickly! Understand?"

  Not a man moved. Pennington shook with fury. "Get him," he croaked."There are enough of you to do--the job. Close in on him--everybody.I'll give a month's pay to--everybody."

  A man of that indiscriminate mixture of Spaniard and Indian known inCalifornia as cholo swept the circle of men with an alert and knowingglance. His name was Flavio Artelan, but his straight black hair, darkrusset complexion, beady eyes, and hawk nose gave him such a resemblanceto a fowl that he was known among his fellows as the Black Minorca,regardless of the fact that this sobriquet was scarcely fair to avery excellent breed of chicken. "That offer's good enough for me," heremarked in businesslike tones. "Come on--everybody. A month's pay forfive minutes' work. I wouldn't tackle the job with six men, but thereare twenty of us here."

  "Hurry," the Colonel urged them.

  Shirley Sumner's flashing glance rested upon the Black Minorca. "Don'tyou dare!" she cried. "Twenty to one! For shame!"

  "For a month's pay," he replied impudently, and grinned evilly. "And I'mtakin' orders from my boss." He started on a dog-trot for the timber,and a dozen men trailed after him.

  Shirley turned helplessly on her uncle, seized his arm and shook itfrantically. "Call them back! Call them back!" she pleaded.

  Her uncle got uncertainly to his feet. "Not on your life!" he growled,and in his cold gray eyes there danced the lights of a thousand devils."I told you the fellow was a ruffian. Now, perhaps, you'll believe me.We'll hold him until Rondeau revives, and then--"

  Shirley guessed the rest, and she realized that it was useless toplead--that she was only wasting time. "Bryce! Bryce!" she called. "Run!They're after you. Twenty of them! Run, run--for my sake!"

  His voice answered her from the timber: "Run? From those cattle? Notfrom man or devil." A silence. Then: "So you've changed your mind, haveyou? You've spoken to me again!" There was triumph, exultation in hisvoice. "The timber's too thick, Shirley. I couldn't get away anyhow--soI'm coming back."

  She saw him burst through a thicket of alder saplings into the clearing,saw half a dozen of her uncle's men close in around him like wolvesaround a sick steer; and at the shock of their contact, she moaned andhid her face in her trembling hands.

  Half man and half tiger that he was, the Black Minorca, asself-appointed leader, reached Bryce first. The cholo was a squat,powerful little man, with more bounce to him than a rubber ball; leadinghis men by a dozen yards, he hesitated not an instant but dodged underthe blow Bryce lashed out at him and came up inside the latter's guard,feeling for Bryce's throat. Instead he met Bryce's knee in his abdomen,and forthwith he folded up like an accordion.

  The next instant Bryce had stooped, caught him by the slack of thetrousers and the scruff of the neck and thrown him, as he had thrownRondeau, into the midst of the men advancing to his aid. Three of themwent down backward; and Bryce, charging over them, stretched two morewith well-placed blows from left and right, and continued on acrossthe clearing, running at top speed, for he realized that for allthe desperation of his fight and the losses already inflicted on hisassailants, the odds against him were insurmountable.

  Seeing him running away, the Laguna Grande woods-men took heart andhope and pursued him. Straight for the loading donkey at the log-landingBryce ran. Beside the donkey stood a neat tier of firewood; in thechopping block, where the donkey-fireman had driven it prior toabandoning his post to view the contest between Bryce and Jules Rondeau,was a double-bitted axe. Bryce jerked it loose, swung it, whirled on hispursuers, and rushed them. Like turkeys scattering before the raid of acoyote they fled in divers directions and from a safe distance turned togaze apprehensively upon this demon they had been ordered to bring in.

  Bryce lowered the axe, removed his hat, and mopped his moist brow.From the centre of the clearing men were crawling or staggering tosafety--with the exception of the Black Minorca, who lay moaning softly.Colonel Pennington, seeing his fondest hopes expire, lost his headcompletely.

  "Get off my property, you savage," he shrilled.

  "Don't be a nut, Colonel," Bryce returned soothingly. "I'll getoff--when I get good and ready, and not a second sooner. In fact, I wastrying to get off as rapidly as I could when you sent your men to bringme back. Prithee why, old thing? Didst crave more conversation with me,or didst want thy camp cleaned out?"

  He started toward Pennington, who backed hastily away. Shirley stoodher ground, bending upon Bryce, as he approached her, a cold anddisapproving glance. "I'll get you yet," the Colonel declared from theshelter of an old stump behind which he had taken refuge.

  "Barking dogs never bite, Colonel. And that reminds me: I've heardenough from you. One more cheep out of you, my friend, and I'll go up tomy own logging-camp, return here with a crew of bluenoses and wild Irishand run your wops, bohunks, and cholos out of the county. I don't fancythe class of labour you're importing into this county, anyhow."

  The Colonel, evidently deciding that discretion was the better part ofvalour, promptly subsided, although Bryce could see that he was mumblingthreats to himself, though not in an audible voice.

  The demon Cardigan halted beside Shirley and stood gazing down at her.He was smiling at her whimsically. She met his glance for a few seconds;then her lids were lowered and she bit her lip with vexation.

  "Shirley," he said.

  "You are presumptuous," she quavered.

  "You set me an example in presumption," he retorted good humouredly."Did you not call ME by MY first name a minute ago?" He glanced towardColonel Pennington and observed the latter with his neck craned acrosshis protecting stump. He was all ears. Bryce pointed sternly across theclearing, and the Colonel promptly abandoned his refuge and retreatedhastily in the direction indicated.

  The heir to Cardigan's Redwoods bent over the girl. "You spoke tome--after your promise not to, Shirley," he said gently. "You willalways speak to me."

  She commenced to cry softly. "I loathe you," she sobbed.

  "For you I have the utmost respect and admiration," he replied.

  "No, you haven't. If you had, you wouldn't hurt my uncle--the only humanbeing in all this world who is dear to me."

  "Gosh!" he murmured plaintively. "I'm jealous of that man. However, I'msorry I hurt him. He is no longer young, while I--well, I forgot thechivalry my daddy taught me. I give you my word I came here to fightfairly--"

  "He merely tried to stop you from fighting."

  "No, he didn't, Shirley. He interfered and fouled me
. Still, despitethat, if I had known you were a spectator I think I should havecontrolled myself and refrained from pulling off my vengeance in yourpresence. I shall never cease to regret that I subjected you to such adistressing spectacle. I do hope, however, that you will believe me whenI tell you I am not a bully, although when there is a fight worth while,I never dodge it. And this time I fought for the honour of the House ofCardigan."

  "If you want me to believe that, you will beg my uncle's pardon."

  "I can't do that. He is my enemy and I shall hate him forever; Ishall fight him and his way of doing business until he reforms or I amexhausted."

  She looked up at him, showing a face in which resentment, outrage, andwistfulness were mirrored.

  "You realize, of course, what your insistence on that plan means, Mr.Cardigan?"

  "Call me Bryce," he pleaded. "You're going to call me that some dayanyhow, so why not start now?"

  "You are altogether insufferable, sir. Please go away and never presumeto address me again. You are quite impossible."

  He shook his head. "I do not give up that readily, Shirley. I didn'tknow how dear--what your friendship meant to me, until you sent me away;I didn't think there was any hope until you warned me those dogs werehunting me--and called me Bryce." He held out his hand. "'God gave usour relations,'" he quoted, "'but thank God, we can choose our friends.'And I'll be a good friend to you, Shirley Sumner, until I have earnedthe right to be something more. Won't you shake hands with me? Remember,this fight to-day is only the first skirmish in a war to the finish--andI am leading a forlorn hope. If I lose--well, this will be good-bye."

  "I hate you," she answered drearily. "All our finefriendship--smashed--and you growing stupidly sentimental. I didn'tthink it of you. Please go away. You are distressing me."

  He smiled at her tenderly, forgivingly, wistfully, but she did not seeit. "Then it is really good-by," he murmured with mock dolorousness.

  She nodded her bowed head. "Yes," she whispered. "After all, I havesome pride, you know. You mustn't presume to be the butterfly preachingcontentment to the toad in the dust."

  "As you will it, Shirley." He turned away. "I'll send your axe backwith the first trainload of logs from my camp, Colonel," he called toPennington.

  Once more he strode away into the timber. Shirley watched him pass outof her life, and gloried in what she conceived to be his agony, for shehad both temper and spirit, and Bryce Cardigan calmly, blunderingly,rather stupidly (she thought) had presumed flagrantly on briefacquaintance. Her uncle was right. He was not of their kind of people,and it was well she had discovered this before permitting herselfto develop a livelier feeling of friendship for him. It was true hepossessed certain manly virtues, but his crudities by far outweighedthese.

  The Colonel's voice broke in upon her bitter reflections. "That fellowCardigan is a hard nut to crack--I'll say that for him." He had crossedthe clearing to her side and was addressing her with his customary airof expansiveness. "I think, my dear, you had better go back into thecaboose, away from the prying eyes of these rough fellows. I'm sorryyou came, Shirley. I'll never forgive myself for bringing you. If I hadthought--but how could I know that scoundrel was coming here to raise adisturbance? And only last night he was at our house for dinner!"

  "That's just what makes it so terrible, Uncle Seth," she quavered.

  "It IS hard to believe that a man of young Cardigan's evidentintelligence and advantages could be such a boor, Shirley. However, I,for one, am not surprised. You will recall that I warned you he mightbe his father's son. The best course to pursue now is to forget that youhave ever met the fellow."

  "I wonder what could have occurred to make such a madman of him?" thegirl queried wonderingly. "He acted more like a demon than a humanbeing."

  "Just like his old father," the Colonel purred benevolently. "Whenhe can't get what he wants, he sulks. I'll tell you what got on hisconfounded nerves. I've been freighting logs for the senior Cardiganover my railroad; the contract for hauling them was a heritage from oldBill Henderson, from whom I bought the mill and timber-lands; and ofcourse as his assignee it was incumbent upon me to fulfill Henderson'scontract with Cardigan, even though the freight-rate was ruinous.

  "Well, this morning young Cardigan came to my office, reminded me thatthe contract would expire by limitation next year and asked me to renewit, and at the same freight-rate. I offered to renew the contract butat a higher freight-rate, and explained to him that I could not possiblycontinue to haul his logs at a loss. Well, right away he flew into arage and called me a robber; whereupon I informed him that since hethought me a robber, perhaps we had better not attempt to have anybusiness dealings with each other--that I really didn't want hiscontract at any price, having scarcely sufficient rolling-stock tohandle my own logs. That made him calm down, but in a little while helost his head again and grew snarly and abusive--to such an extent,indeed, that finally I was forced to ask him to leave my office."

  "Nevertheless, Uncle Seth, I cannot understand why he should make such afurious attack upon your employee."

  The Colonel laughed with a fair imitation of sincerity and tolerantamusement. "My dear, that is no mystery to me. There are men who,finding it impossible or inadvisable to make a physical attack upontheir enemy, find ample satisfaction in poisoning his favourite dog,burning his house, or beating up one of his faithful employees. Cardiganpicked on Rondeau for the reason that a few days ago he tried to hireRondeau away from me--offered him twenty-five dollars a month more thanI was paying him, by George! Of course when Rondeau came to me withCardigan's proposition, I promptly met Cardigan's bid and retainedRondeau; consequently Cardigan hates us both and took the earliestopportunity to vent his spite on us."

  The Colonel sighed and brushed the dirt and leaves from his tweeds."Thunder," he continued philosophically, "it's all in the game, sowhy worry over it? And why continue to discuss an unpleasant topic, mydear?"

  A groan from the Black Minorca challenged her attention. "I think thatman is badly hurt, Uncle," she suggested.

  "Serves him right," he returned coldly. "He tackled that cyclone fulltwenty feet in advance of the others; if they'd all closed in together,they would have pulled him down. I'll have that cholo and Rondeau sentdown with the next trainload of logs to the company hospital. They're apoor lot and deserve manhandling--"

  They paused, facing toward the timber, from which came a voice,powerful, sweetly resonant, raised in song. Shirley knew thathalf-trained baritone, for she had heard it the night before when BryceCardigan, faking his own accompaniment at the piano, had sung for her anumber of carefully expurgated lumberjack ballads, the lunatic humour ofwhich had delighted her exceedingly. She marvelled now at his choice ofminstrelsy, for the melody was hauntingly plaintive--the words EugeneField's poem of childhood, "Little Boy Blue."

  "The little toy dog is covered with dust, But sturdy and stanch he stands; And the little toy soldier is red with rust, And his musket molds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new, And the soldier was passing fair; And that was the time when our little boy blue, Kissed them and put them there."

  "Light-hearted devil, isn't he?" the Colonel commented approvingly. "Andhis voice isn't half bad. Just singing to be defiant, I suppose."

  Shirley did not answer. But a few minutes previously she had seen thesinger a raging fury, brandishing an axe and driving men before him. Shecould not understand. And presently the song grew faint among the timberand died away entirely.

  Her uncle took her gently by the arm and steered her toward the caboose."Well, what do you think of your company now?" he demanded gayly.

  "I think," she answered soberly, "that you have gained an enemy worthwhile and that it behooves you not to underestimate him."