Langford of the Three Bars

by Kate Boyles Bingham and Virgil D. Boyles

  CHAPTER XIV

  CHANNEL ICE

  A jolly party set off for Velpen Sunday morning. Hank Bruebacher hadremained over night on purpose to escort them to the river in his 'bus.It had been caught on the wrong side. The channel had closed over aboutthe middle of the week. The ice had been very thin at first; there hadbeen no drop of the thermometer, but a gradual lowering night afternight had at last made men deem it safe to cross on foot. A rumor tothis effect had drifted in to the tired jurors hanging around andkilling time, waiting to be called. Sunday in Kemah was impossible--tomany. Besides, they had had a week of it. They were sure of a gooddinner at Velpen, where there had been no such fearful inroads on thesupplies, and the base of whose supplies, moreover, was not cut off asit was at Kemah by the closing of the river, which was not yet solidenough for traffic. That consideration held weight with many. Saloonservice was a little better, and that, too, had its votaries. Businessappointments actuated Gordon and perhaps a few others. _Ennui_ pure andsimple moved the Court and the Court's assistant.

  It was about ten in the morning. It was frosty, but bright, and thelittle cold snap bade fair to die prematurely. It surely was wonderfulweather for South Dakota.

  "Where is Mary?" asked the Judge, as Louise came lightly down thestairs, ready to put on her gloves.

  "She went out to the Whites' an hour or so ago--to do the week's washing,I suspect. Mr. Langford took her out."

  "Louise! On Sunday!" Even the tolerant Judge was shocked.

  "It's true, Uncle Hammond," persisted Louise, earnestly.

  She wore a modish hat that was immensely becoming, and looked charming.Gordon stood at the worn, wooden steps, hat off, despite the nippingair, waiting to assist her to the place the gallant Hank had reservedfor her.

  He sat down at her right, Judge Dale at her left. The jurymen filled theother places rapidly. The heavy wagon lurched forward. The road wasgood; there had been no snows or thaws. Now was Hank in his element. Itis very probable that he was the most unreservedly contented man inseven States that fair Sunday morning--always excepting Munson of theThree Bars. A few straggling buckboards and horsemen brought up therear. Judge Dale, taking to himself as much room as it was possible toconfiscate with elbows slyly pressed outward chickenwing-wise, fishedout his newspaper leisurely, leaned over Gordon to say in amatter-of-fact voice, "Just amuse Louise for a little while, will you,Dick, while I glance at the news; you won't have to play, just talk,--shelikes to talk," and buried himself in the folds of the jiggling paper;much jiggled because Hank had no intention of permitting any vehicle topass the outfit of which the Judge was passenger while he, HankBruebacher, held the reins. He was an authority of the road, and assuch, he refused to be passed by anything on wheels.

  The rattle of the wagon drowned all coherent conversation. The Judge'soutspread arms had forced Louise very close to her neighbor on theright, who had the instructions to keep her amused, but even then hemust bend his head if he were to obey orders strictly and--talk. He choseto obey. Last night, he had been worn out with the strain of the week;he had not been able to forget things. To-day,--well, to-day was to-day.

  "Are you going to hear the bishop?" asked Louise. It was a little hardto make conversation when every time one lifted one's eyes one foundone's self so startlingly close to a man's fine face.

  "Surely!" responded Gordon. "An incomparable scholar--an indefatigableworkman--truest of saints." There was grave reverence in his loweredvoice.

  "You know him well?"

  "Yes. I see him often in his Indian mission work. He is one of the bestfriends I have."

  The river gleamed with a frozen deadness alongside. The horses' hoofspounded rhythmically over the hardened road. Opposite, a man who hadevidently found saloon service in Kemah pretty good, but who doubtlesswould put himself in a position to make comparisons as soon as ever hisunsteady feet could carry him there, began to sing a rollicking melodyin a maudlin falsetto.

  "Shut up!" One of the men nudged him roughly.

  "Right you are," said the singer, pleasantly, whose name was Lawson. "Itis not seemly that we lift up our voices in worldly melody on this holyday and--in the presence of a lady," with an elaborate bow and a vacantgrin that made Louise shrink closer to the Judge. "I suggest we all joinin a sacred song." He followed up his own suggestion with a discordantburst of "Yes, we will gather at the river."

  "He means the kind o' rivers they have in the 'Place around theCorner,'" volunteered Hank, turning around with a knowing wink. "Theyhave rivers there--plenty of 'em--only none of 'em ever saw water."

  "I tell you, shut up," whispered the man who had first chided. "Can'tyou see there's a lady present? No more monkey-shines or we'll oust you.Hear?"

  "I bow to the demands of the lady," said Lawson, subsiding with happygallantry.

  "You have many 'best friends' for a man who boasted not so long ago thathe stood alone in the cow country," said Louise, resuming theinterrupted conversation with Gordon.

  "He is one of the fingers," retorted Gordon. "I confessed to one hand,you will remember."

  "Let me see," said Louise, musingly. She began counting on her owndaintily gloved hand.

  "Mrs. Higgins is the thumb, you said?" questioningly.

  "Yes."

  "Mr. Langford is the first finger, of course?"

  "Of course."

  "And Uncle Hammond is the middle finger?"

  "You have said it."

  "And the bishop is the third finger?"

  "He surely is."

  "And--and--Mary is the next?"

  "Sorceress! You have guessed all right."

  "Then where am I?" she challenged, half in earnest, half in fun. "Youmight have left at least the little finger for me."

  He laughed under his breath--an unsteady sort of laugh, as if somethinghad knocked at his habitual self control. There was only one answer tothat gay, mocking challenge--only one--and that he could not give. Heforgot for a little while that there were other people in the wagon. Thepoor babbling, grinning man across the way was not the only drunken mantherein. Only one answer, and that to draw the form closer--closer tohim--against his heart--for there was where she belonged. Fingers? Whatdid he care for fingers now? He wanted to lay his face down against hersoft hair--it was so perilously near. If only he might win in his fight!But even so, what would it matter? What could there ever be for her inthis cruel, alien land? She had been so kindly and lovingly nurtured. Inher heart nestled the home call--for all time. She was bound in itsmeshes. They would draw her sooner or later to her sure and inevitabledestiny. And what was there for him elsewhere--after all these years?Kismet. He drew a long breath.

  "I'm a poor maverick, I suppose, marked with no man's friendship. Butyou see I'm learning the language of the brotherhood. Why don't youcompliment me on my adaptability?"

  She looked up smilingly. She was hurt, but he should never know it. Andhe, because of the pain in him, answered almost roughly:

  "It is not a language for you to learn. You will never learn. Quittrying. You are not like us."

  She, because she did not understand, felt the old homesick choking inher throat, and remembered with a reminiscent shudder of the first awfultime she had spun along that road. Everybody seemed to spin in thisstrange land. She felt herself longing for the fat, lazy, old jogginghorses of her country home. Horses couldn't hurry there because thehills were too many and the roads too heavy. These lean, shaggy,range-bred horses were diabolical in their predilection for going.Hank's surely were no exception to the rule. He pulled them up with agrand flourish at the edge of the steep incline leading directly uponthe pontoon that bridged the narrowed river on the Kemah side of theisland, and they stopped dead still with the cleanness worthy of cowponies. The suddenness of the halt precipitated them all into a generalmix-up. Gordon had braced himself for the shock, but Louise was whollyunprepared. She was thrown violently against him. The contact paled hisface. The soft hair he had longed to caress in his madness brushed hischeek. He shivere
d.

  "Oh!" cried Louise, laughing and blushing, "I wasn't expecting that!"

  Most of the men were already out and down on the bridge. A lonepedestrian was making his way across.

  "All safe?" queried Judge Dale, as he came up.

  "A little thin over the channel, but all safe if you cross a-foot."

  "Suppose we walk across the island," suggested the Judge, whooccasionally overcame his indolence in spasmodic efforts to counteracthis growing portliness, "and our friend Hank will meet us here in themorning."

  So it was agreed. The little party straggled gayly across the bridge.The walk across the island was far from irksome. The air was stillbracing, though rags of smoky cloud were beginning to obscure the sun.The gaunt cottonwoods stood out in sombre silhouette against theunsoftened bareness of the winter landscape. Louise was somewhatthoughtful and pensive since her little attempt to challenge intimacyhad been so ungraciously received. To Gordon, on the other hand, hadcome a strange, new exhilaration. His blood bounded joyously through hisveins. This was his day--he would live it to the dregs. To-morrow, andrenunciation--well, that was to-morrow. He could not even resent, as,being a man, he should have resented, the unwelcome and ludicrousattentions of the drunken singer to the one woman in the crowd, becausewhenever the offender came near, Louise would press closer to him,Gordon, and once, in her quick distaste to the proximity of the man, sheclutched Gordon's coat-sleeve nervously. It was the second time he hadfelt her hand on his arm. He never forgot either. But the man receivedsuch a withering chastisement from Gordon's warning eyes that he ceasedto molest until the remainder of the island road had been traversed.

  Then men looked at each other questioningly. A long, narrow,single-plank bridge stretched across the channel. It was not then sosafe as report would have it. The boards were stretched lengthwise witha long step between each board and the next. What was to be done? Hankhad gone long since. No one coveted the long walk back to Kemah. Everyone did covet the comfort or pleasure upon which each had set his heart.Gordon, the madness of his intoxication still upon him, constitutedhimself master of ceremonies. He stepped lightly upon the near plank toreconnoitre. He walked painstakingly from board to board. He was dealingin precious freight--he would draw no rash conclusions. When he hadreached what he considered the middle of the channel, he returned andpronounced it in his opinion safe, with proper care, and advisedstrongly that no one step upon a plank till the one in front of him hadleft it. Thus the weight of only one person at a time would materiallylessen the danger of the ice's giving way. So the little procession tookup its line of march.

  Gordon had planned that Louise should follow her uncle and he himselfwould follow Louise; thus he might rest assured that there would be noencroachment upon her preserves. The officious songster, contrary toorders, glided ahead of his place when the line of march was well takenup--usurping anybody's plank at will, and trotting along over the bareice until finally he drew alongside Louise with an amiable grin.

  "I will be here ready for emergencies," he confided, meaningly. "Youneed not be afraid. If the ice breaks, I will save you."

  "Get back, you fool," cried Gordon, fiercely.

  "And leave this young lady alone? Not so was I brought up, young man,"answered Lawson, with great dignity. "Give me your hand, miss, I willsteady you."

  Louise shrank from his touch and stepped back to the end of her plank.

  "Get on that plank, idiot!" cried Gordon, wrathfully. "And if you darestep on this lady's board again, I'll wring your neck. Do you hear?"

  He had stepped lightly off his own plank for a moment while he drewLouise back to it. The ice gave treacherously, and a little pool ofwater showed where his foot had been. Louise faltered.

  "It--it--flows so fast," she said, nervously.

  "It is nothing," he reassured her. "I will be more careful anothertime."

  It was a perilous place for two. He hurried her to the next board assoon as the subdued transgressor had left it, he himself holding back.

  It was indeed an odd procession. Dark figures balanced themselves on theslim footing, each the length of a plank from the other, the lineseeming to stretch from bank to bank. It would have been ludicrous hadit not been for the danger, which all realized. Some half-grown boys,prowling along the Velpen shore looking for safe skating, gibed themwith flippant rudeness.

  Lawson took fire.

  "Whoop 'er up, boys," he yelled, waving his hat enthusiastically.

  He pranced up gayly to the Judge, tripping along on the bare ice.

  "Your arm, your honor," he cried. "It is a blot on my escutcheon that Ihave left you to traverse this danger-bristling way alone--you, theJudge. But trust me. If the ice breaks, I will save you. I swim like afish."

  "My friend," said Dale, fixing on him eyes of calm disapproval, "if youare the cause of my being forced to a cold-water plunge bath against mywishes, I will sentence you to the gallows. Now go!"

  He went. He was hurt, but he was not deterred. He would wait for thelady. A gentleman could do no less. Louise stopped. Gordon stopped. Thewhole back line stopped. Each man stood to his colors and--his plank.Louise, glancing appealingly over her shoulder, gave an hystericallittle laugh.

  "Move on!" cried Gordon, impatiently.

  Instead of moving on, however, Lawson came confidently toward Louise.She stifled a little feminine scream in her handkerchief and steppedhastily backward.

  "Don't be afraid," said Lawson.

  Gordon repressed a rising oath, and cried out, "If you dare--," butLawson had already dared. His heavy step was upon Louise's frailsupport. She thought shudderingly, intuitively, of the dark, swift,angry current under its thin veneer of ice--the current that was alwayshungry and ate islands and fertile fields in ravenous mouthfuls. She ranback to the end of her plank.

  "Have no fear," said the drunken man, blandly. He stepped to the bareice at her side. "A man can't walk pigeon-toed always," he confided."Besides, there's not a particle of danger. These fools are making amountain of a mole-hill."

  Gordon came forward quickly.

  "Run ahead, Miss Dale, I'll tend to this fellow," he said.

  He extended a firm hand. He meant to clutch the man, shove him behind,and keep him there. But at that moment the ice began to give underLawson's clumsy feet. A look of blank, piteous helplessness came intohis drunken eyes as he felt the treacherous ice sinking beneath him. Hetottered, then, with frantic, unthinking haste, and sprang to the plank,but it, too, began to sink. He laid desperate hold of the girl.

  "Save me!" he shrieked.

  Louise was conscious only of a quick, awful terror, a dreadful horror ofswaying and sinking, and then she was muffled against a rough coat,strong arms clasped her tightly and bore her backward. Shivering, shehid her face in the coat, clutching the lapels with nervous strength.

  "You'll spoil your Sunday clothes," she moaned, trying desperately to becalm and sensible.

  And Gordon held her at last as he had dreamed in his mad moments ofholding her--close against his heart--in the place he had not dared totell her he had already put her. His face was pressed against the fairhair that he had longed with an indescribable longing to caress such ashort time ago. His lips brushed the soft strands with infinitetenderness. Now was his dream come true. This day was his. No one mighttake it from him. To-morrow,--but that was to-morrow. To-day was his. Hewould live it to the end. Closer he held her,--the dear woman,--there wasno one else in all the world. When he released her, she was confrontinga man whose face was as white as the ice around them.

  "Is this--the last of us?" she questioned, tremulously.

  He flung his arm over her shoulders again. He did not know exactly whathe did. Men were coming forward rapidly, aware that a great tragedy hadthreatened, had been averted. Dale was hastily retracing his steps.Lawson had crawled to a place of safety on a forward plank after havingbeen flung out of the way by Gordon in his swift rush for Louise. He wasgrinning foolishly, but was partially sobered by the shock.

>   "Back! All of you!" cried Gordon, imperiously. He was very pale, but hehad regained his self-control. "Idiots! Do you want another accident?Back to your places! We'll have to go around."

  The ice was broken in many spots. Louise had really gone through, but soquick had been her rescue that she escaped with wet feet only. By makinga portable bridge of two of the planks, they skirted the yawning hole insafety. It was a more dangerous undertaking now that two must stand on aplank at the same time. Luckily, the greater number were ahead when theaccident occurred. It was not much past noon,--but Gordon's day wasended. It was as if the sun had gone down on it. He found no opportunityto speak to Louise again, and the to-morrow, his to-morrow, had come.But the one day had been worth while.