Trailin'!

by Max Brand

  CHAPTER XXXVII

  "TODO ES PERDO"

  It was not long after the departure of Bard that Sally Fortune awoke.For a step had creaked on the floor, and she looked up to find SteveNash standing in the centre of the room with the firelight gloomilyabout him; behind, blocking the door with his squat figure, stood ShortyKilrain.

  "Where's your side-kicker?" asked Nash. "Where's Bard?"

  And looking across the room, she saw that the other bunk was empty. Sheraised her arms quickly, as if to stifle a yawn, and sat up in the bunk,holding the blanket close about her shoulders. The face she showed toNash was calmly contemptuous.

  "The bird seems to be flown, eh?" she queried.

  "Where is he?" he repeated, and made a step nearer.

  She knew at last that her power over him as a woman was gone; she caughtthe danger of his tone, saw it in the steadiness of the eyes he fixedupon her. Behind was a great, vague feeling of loss, the old hollownessabout the heart. It made her reckless of consequences; and when Nashasked, "Is he hangin' around behind the corner, maybe?" she cried:

  "If he was that close you'd have sense enough to run, Steve."

  The snarl of Nash showed his teeth.

  "Out with it. The tenderfoot ain't left his woman fur away. Where's hegone? Who's he gone to shoot in the back? Where's the hoss he startedout to rustle?"

  "Kind of peeved, Nash, eh?"

  One step more he made, towering above her.

  "I've done bein' polite, Sally. I've asked you a question."

  "And I've answered you: I don't know."

  "Sally, I'm patient; I don't mean no wrong to you. What you've been tome I'm goin' to bust myself tryin' to forget; but don't lie to me now."

  Such a far greater woe kept up a throbbing ache in the hollow of herthroat that now she laughed, laughed slowly, deliberately. He leaned,caught her wrist in a crushing pressure.

  "You demon; you she-devil!"

  She whirled out of the bunk, the blanket caught about her like the togaof some ancient Roman girl; and as she moved she had swept up somethingheavy and bright from the floor.

  All this, and still his grip was on her left arm.

  "Drop your hand, Nash."

  With a falling of the heart, she knew that he did not fear her gun;instead, a light of pleasure gleamed in his eyes and his lower jawthrust out.

  She would never forget his face as he looked that moment.

  "Will you tell me?"

  "I'll see you in hell first."

  By that wrist he drew her resistlessly toward him, and his other armwent about her and crushed her close; hate, shame, rage, love were inthe contorted face above her. She pressed the muzzle of her revolveragainst his side.

  "You're in beckoning distance of that hell, Steve!"

  "You she-wolf--shoot and be damned! I'd live long enough to strangleyou."

  "You know me, Steve; don't be a fool."

  "Know you? Nobody knows you. And God Almighty, Sally, I love you worse'never; love the very way you hate me. Come here!"

  He jerked her closer still, leaned; and she remembered then thatAnthony had never kissed her. She said:

  "You're safe; you know he can't see you."

  He threw her from him and stood snarling like a dog growling for thebone it fears to touch because there may be poison in the taste--astarving dog, and a bone full of toothsome marrow which has only to becrushed in order that it may be enjoyed.

  "I'm wishin' nothin' more than that he could see me."

  "Then you're a worse fool than I took you for, Steve. You know he'd gothrough ten like you."

  "There ain't no man has gone through me yet."

  "But he would. You know it. He's not stronger, maybe not so strong. Buthe was born to win, Steve; he's like--he's like Drew, in a way. He can'tfail."

  "If I wrung that throat of yours," he said, "I know I couldn't get outof you where he's gone."

  "Because I don't know, you see."

  "Don't know?"

  "He's given me the slip."

  "You!"

  "Funny, ain't it? But he has. Thought I couldn't ride fast enough tokeep up with him, maybe. He's gone on east, of course."

  "That's another lie."

  "Well, you know."

  "I do."

  His voice changed.

  "Has he really beat it away from you, Sally?"

  She watched him with a strange, sneering smile. Then she stepped close.

  "Lean your ear down to me, Steve."

  He obeyed.

  "I'll tell you what ought to make you happy. He don't care for me nomore than I care for--you, Steve."

  He straightened again, wondering.

  "And you?"

  "I threw myself at him. I dunno why I'm tellin' you, except it's rightthat you should know. But he don't want me; he's gone on without me."

  "An' you like him still?"

  She merely stared, with a sick smile.

  "My God!" he murmured, shaken deep with wonder. "What's he made of?"

  "Steel and fire--that's all."

  "Listen, Sally, forget what I've done, and--"

  "Would you drop his trail, Steve?"

  He cursed through his set teeth.

  "If that's it--no. It's him or me, and I'm sure to beat him out.Afterwards you'll forget him."

  "Try me."

  "Girls have said that before. I'll wait. There ain't no one but you forme--damn you--I know that. I'll get him first, and then I'll wait."

  "Ten like you couldn't get him."

  "I've six men behind me."

  She was still defiant, but her colour changed.

  "Six, Sally, and he's out here among the hills, not knowing his rightfrom his left. I ask you: has he got a chance?"

  She answered: "No; not one."

  He turned on his heel, beckoned to Kilrain, who had stood movelessthrough the strange dialogue, and went out into the night.

  As they mounted he said: "We're going straight for the place where Itold Butch Conklin I'd meet him. Then the bunch of us will come back."

  "Why waste time?"

  "Because he's sure to come back. Shorty, after a feller has seen Sallysmile--the way she can smile--he couldn't keep away. I _know_!"

  They rode off at a slow trot, like men who have resigned themselves to along journey, and Sally watched them from the door. She sat down,crosslegged, before the fire, and stirred the embers, and strove tothink.

  But she was not equipped for thinking, all her life had been merelyaction, action, action, and now, as she strove to build out some logicalsequence and find her destiny in it, she failed miserably, and fell backupon herself. She was one of those single-minded people who givethemselves up to emotion rarely, but when they do their whole body,their whole soul burns in the flame.

  Into her mind came a phrase she had heard in her childhood. On theoutskirts of Eldara there was a little shack owned by a Mexican--Jose,he was called, and nothing else, "Greaser" Jose. One night an alarm offire was given in Eldara, and the whole populace turned out to enjoy thesight; it was a festival occasion, in a way. It was the house of GreaserJose.

  The cowpunchers manned a bucket line, but the source of water was faraway, the line too long, and the flames gained faster than they could bequenched. All through the work of fire-fighting Greaser Jose waseverywhere about the house, flinging buckets of water through thewindows into the red furnace within; his wife and the two children stoodstupidly, staring, dumb. But in the end, when the fire was toweringabove the roof of the house, roaring and crackling, the Mexican suddenlyraised a long arm and called to the bucket line, "It is done. Senors, Ithank you."

  Then he had folded his arms and repeated in a monotone, over and overagain: "_Todo es perdo; todo es perdo_!"

  His wife came to him, frantic, wailing, and threw her arms around hisneck. He merely repeated with heavy monotony: "_Todo es perdo; todo esperdo_!"

  The phrase clung in the mind of the girl; and she rose at last and wentback to her bunk, repeating: "_Todo es
perdo; todo es perdo! All islost; all is lost_!"

  No tears were in her eyes; they were wide and solemn, looking up to theshadows of the ceiling, and so she went to sleep with the solemn Spanishphrase echoing through her whole being: "_Todo es perdo_!"

  She woke with the smell of frying bacon pungent in her nostrils.