Brand Blotters

by William MacLeod Raine

  CHAPTER IX

  A BARGAIN

  Melissy saw the two prisoners brought in, though she could not tell atthat distance who they were. Her watch told her that it was four-thirty.She had slept scarcely at all during the night, but now she lay down onthe bed in her clothes.

  The next she knew, Rosario was calling her to get up for breakfast. Thegirl dressed and followed Rosario to the adjoining cabin. MacQueen was notthere, and Melissy ate alone. She was given to understand that she mightwalk up and down in front of the houses for a few minutes after breakfast.Naturally she made the most of the little liberty allowed her.

  The old squaw Sit-in-the-Sun squatted in front of the last hut, her backagainst the log wall. The man called Buck sat yawning on a rock a fewyards away. What struck Melissy as strange was that the squaw was figuringon the back of an old envelope with the stub of a lead pencil.

  The young woman walked leisurely past the cabin for perhaps a dozenyards.

  "That'll be about far enough. You don't want to tire yourself, Miss Lee,"Buck Lane called, with a grin.

  Melissy stopped, stood looking at the mountains for a few minutes, andturned back. Sit-in-the-Sun looked quickly at her, and at the same momentshe tore the paper in two and her fingers opened to release one piece ofthe envelope upon which she had been writing. A puff of wind carried italmost directly in front of the girl. Lane was still yawning sleepily, hisgaze directed toward the spot where he presently expected Rosario to stepout and call him to breakfast. Melissy dropped her handkerchief, stoopedto pick it up, and gathered at the same time in a crumpled heap into herhand the fragment of an envelope. Without another glance at the squaw, theyoung woman kept on her way, sauntered to the porch, and lingered there asif in doubt.

  "I'm tired," she announced to Rosario, and turned to her rooms.

  "_Si, senorita,_" answered her attendant quietly.

  Once inside, Melissy lay down on her bed, with her back to the window, andsmoothed out the torn envelope. On one side were some disjointed memorandawhich she did not understand.

  K. C. & T. 93 D. & R. B. 87 Float $10,000,000 Cortes for extension.

  That was all, but certainly a strange puzzle for a Navajo squaw to sether.

  She turned the paper over, to find the other side close-packed withwriting.

  Miss Lee:

  In the last cabin but one is a prisoner, your friend Sheriff Flatray. He is to be shot in an hour. I have offered any sum for his life and been refused. For God's sake save him somehow.

  Simon West.Jack Flatray here, and about to be murdered! The thing was incredible. Andyet--and yet---- Was it so impossible, after all? Some one had broken intothe Cache and released the prisoners. Who more likely than Jack to havedone this? And later they had captured him and condemned him for what hehad done.

  Melissy reconstructed the scene in a flash. The Indian squaw was West. Hehad been rigged up in that paraphernalia to deceive any chance mountaineerwho might drop into the valley by accident.

  No doubt, when he first saw Melissy, the railroad magnate had been passinghis time in making notes about his plans for the system he controlled. Butwhen he had caught sight of her, he had written the note, under the veryeyes of the guard, had torn the envelope as if it were of no importance,and tossed the pieces away. He had taken the thousandth chance that hisnote might fall into the hands of the person to whom it was directed.

  All this she understood without giving it conscious thought. For her wholemind was filled with the horror of what she had learned. Jack Flatray, theman she loved, was to be killed. He was to be shot down in an hour.

  With the thought, she was at her door--only to find that it had beenquietly locked while she lay on the bed. No doubt they had meant to keepher a close prisoner until the thing they were about to do was finished.She beat upon it, called to Rosario to let her out, wrung her hands in herdesperation. Then she remembered the window. It was a cheap and flimsycase, and had been jammed so that her strength was not sufficient to raiseit.

  Her eye searched the room for a weapon, and found an Indian tom-tom club.With this she smashed the panes and beat down the wooden cross bars of thesash. Agile as a forest fawn, she slipped through the opening she had madeand ran toward the far cabin.

  A group of men surrounded the door; and, as she drew near, it opened toshow three central figures. MacQueen was one, Rosario Chaves a second; butthe most conspicuous was a bareheaded young man, with his hands tiedbehind him. He was going to his death, but a glance was enough to showthat he went unconquered and unconquerable. His step did not drag. Therewas a faint, grave smile on his lips; and in his eye was the dynamic sparkthat proclaimed him still master of his fate. The woolen shirt had beenunbuttoned and pulled back to make way for the rope that lay loosely abouthis neck, so that she could not miss the well-muscled slope of his fineshoulders, or the gallant set of the small head upon the brown throat.

  The man who first caught sight of Melissy spoke in a low voice to hischief. MacQueen turned his head sharply to see her, took a dozen stepstoward her, then upbraided the Mexican woman, who had run out afterMelissy.

  "I told you to lock her door--to make sure of it."

  "_Si, senor_--I did."

  "Then how----" He stopped, and looked to Miss Lee for an explanation.

  "I broke the window."

  The outlaw noticed then that her hand was bleeding. "Broke the window!Why?"

  "I had to get out! I had to stop you!"

  He attempted no denial of what he was about to do. "How did you know? DidRosario tell you?" he asked curtly.

  "No--no! I found out--just by chance."

  "What chance?" He was plainly disconcerted that she had come to interfere,and as plainly eager to punish the person who had disclosed to her thisthing, which he would have liked to do quietly, without her knowledge.

  "Never mind that. Nobody is to blame. Say I overheard a sentence. ThankGod I did, and I am in time."

  There was no avoiding it now. He had to fight it out with her. "In timefor what?" he wanted to know, his eyes narrowing to vicious pin points.

  "To save him."

  "No--no! He must die," cried the Mexican woman.

  Melissy was amazed at her vehemence, at the passion of hate that trembledin the voice of the old woman.

  MacQueen nodded. "It is out of my hands, you see. He has been condemned."

  "But why?"

  "Tell her, Rosario."

  The woman poured her story forth fluently in the native tongue. O'Connorhad killed her son--did not deny that he had done it. And just becauseTony had tried to escape. This man had freed the ranger. Very well. Heshould take O'Connor's place. Let him die the death. A life for a life.Was that not fair?

  Flatray turned his head and caught sight of Melissy. A startled cry diedon his lips.

  "Jack!" She held out both hands to him as she ran toward him.

  The sheriff took her in his arms to console her. For the girl's face wasworking in a stress of emotion.

  "Oh, I'm in time--I'm in time. Thank God I'm in time."

  Jack waited a moment to steady his voice. "How came you here, Melissy?"

  "He brought me--Black MacQueen. I hated him for it, but now I'm glad--soglad--because I can save you."

  Jack winced. He looked over her shoulder at MacQueen, taking it all inwith an air of pleasant politeness. And one look was enough to tell himthat there was no hope for him. The outlaw had the complacent manner of acat which has just got at the cream. That Melissy loved him would be anadditional reason for wiping him off the map. And in that instant a fiercejoy leaped up in Flatray and surged through him, an emotion stronger thanthe fear of death. She loved him. MacQueen could not take that away fromhim.

  "It's all a mistake," Melissy went on eagerly. "Of course they can't blameyou for what Lieutenant O'Connor did. It is absurd--ridiculous."

  "Certainly." MacQueen tugged at his little bla
ck mustache and kept hisblack eyes on her constantly. "That's not what we're blaming him for. Theindictment against your friend is that he interfered when it wasn't hisbusiness."

  "But it was his business. Don't you know he's sheriff? He had to do it."Melissy turned to the outlaw impetuously.

  "So. And I have to play my hand out, too. It wipes out Mr. Flatray. Sorry,but business is business."

  "But--but----" Melissy grew pale as the icy fear gripped her heart thatthe man meant to go on with the crime. "Don't you see? He's the sheriff?"

  "And I never did love sheriffs," drawled MacQueen.

  The girl repeated herself helplessly. "It was his sworn duty. That was howhe looked at it."

  A ghost of an ironic smile flitted across the face of the outlaw chief."Rosario's sworn duty is to avenge her son's death. That is how she looksat it. The rest of us swore the oath with her."

  "But Lieutenant O'Connor had the law back of him. This is murder!"

  "Not at all. It is the law of the valley--a life for a life."

  "But---- Oh, no--no--no!"

  "Yes."

  The finality of it appalled her. She felt as if she were butting her headagainst a stone wall. She knew that argument and entreaty were of noavail, yet she desperately besought first one and then another of them tosave the prisoner. Each in turn shook his head. She could see that none ofthem, save Rosario, bore him a grudge; yet none would move to break thevalley oath. At the last, she was through with her promises and herprayers. She had spent them all, and had come up against the wall of blankdespair.

  Then Jack's grave smile thanked her. "You've done what you could,Melissy."

  She clung to him wildly. "Oh, no--no! I can't let you go, Jack. I can't. Ican't."

  "I reckon it's got to be, dear," he told her gently.

  But her breaking heart could not stand that. There must somehow be a wayto save him. She cast about desperately for one, and had not found it whenshe begged the outlaw chief to see her alone.

  "No use." He shook his head.

  "But just for five minutes! That can't do any harm, can it?"

  "And no good, either."

  "Yet I ask it. You might do that much for me," she pleaded.

  Her despair had moved him; for he was human, after all. That he wastroubled about it annoyed him a good deal. Her arrival on the scene hadmade things unpleasant for everybody. Ungraciously he assented, as theeasiest way out of the difficulty.

  The two moved off to the corral. It was perhaps thirty yards distant, andthey reached it before either of them spoke. She was the first to breakthe silence.

  "OH, NO--NO! I CAN'T LET YOU GO, JACK. I CAN'T. I CAN'T."_Page 294._]

  "You won't do this dreadful thing--surely, you won't do it."

  "No use saying another word about it. I told you that," he answereddoggedly.

  "But---- Oh, don't you see? It's one of those things no white man can do.Once it's done, you have put the bars up against decency for the rest ofyour life."

  "I reckon I'll have to risk that--and down in your heart you don't believeit, because you think I've had the bars up for years."

  She had come to an impasse already. She tried another turn. "And you saidyou cared for me! Yet you are willing to make me unhappy for the rest ofmy life."

  "Why, no! I'm willing to make you happy. There's fish in the sea just asgood as any that ever were caught," he smirked.

  "But it would help you to free him. Don't you see? It's your chance. Youcan begin again, now. You can make him your friend."

  His eyes were hard and grim. "I don't want him for a friend, and you'redead wrong if you think I could make this a lever to square myself withthe law. I couldn't. He wouldn't let me, for one thing--he isn't thatkind."

  "And you said you cared for me!" she repeated helplessly, wringing herhands in her despair. "But at the first chance you fail me."

  "Can't you see it isn't a personal matter? I've got nothing againsthim--nothing to speak of. I'd give him to you, if I could. But it's not mysay-so. The thing is out of my hands."

  "You could save him, if you set yourself to."

  "Sure, I could--if I would pay the price. But I won't pay."

  "That's it. You would have to give Rosario something--make someconcession," she said eagerly.

  "And I'm not willing to pay the price," he told her. "His life's forfeit.Hasn't he been hunting us for a week?"

  "Let me pay it," she cried. "I have money in my own right--seven thousanddollars. I'll give it all to save him."

  He shook his head. "No use. We've turned down a big offer from West. Yourseven thousand isn't a drop in the bucket."

  She beat her hands together wildly. "There must be some way to save him."

  The outlaw was looking at her with narrowed eyes. He saw a way, and wasworking it out in his mind. "You're willing to pay, are you?" he asked.

  "Yes--yes! All I have."

  He put his arms akimbo on the corral fence, and looked long at her."Suppose the price can't be paid in money, Miss Lee."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Money isn't the only thing in this world. There are lots of things itwon't buy that other things will," he said slowly.

  She groped for his meaning, her wide eyes fixed on his, and still did notfind it. "Be plainer, please. What can I do to save him?"

  "You might marry me."

  "Never!"

  "Just as you say. You were looking for a way, and I suggested one. Anyhow,you're mine."

  "I won't do it!"

  "You wanted me to pay the price; but you don't want to pay yourself."

  "I couldn't do it. It would be horrible!" But she knew she could andmust.

  "Why couldn't you? I'm ready to cut loose from this way of living. When Ipull off this one big thing, I'll quit. We'll go somewhere and begin lifeagain. You said I could. Well, I will. You'll help me to keep straight. Itwon't be only his life you are saving. It will be mine, too."

  "No--I don't love you! How could a girl marry a man she didn't care forand didn't respect?"

  "I'll make you do both before long. I'm the kind of man women love."

  "You're the kind I hate," she flashed bitterly.

  "I'll risk your hate, my dear," he laughed easily.

  She did not look at him. Her eyes were on the horizon line, where sky andpine tops met. He knew that she was fighting it out to a decision, and hedid not speak again.

  After all, she was only a girl. Right and wrong were inextricably mixed inher mind. It was not right to marry this man. It was not right to let thesheriff die while she could save him. She was generous to the core. Butthere was something deeper than generosity. Her banked love for Flatrayflooded her in a great cry of protest against his death. She loved him.She loved him. Much as she detested this man, revolting as she found thethought of being linked to him, the impulse to sacrifice herself was thestronger feeling of the two. Deep in her heart she knew that she could notlet Jack go to his death so long as it was possible to prevent it.

  Her grave eyes came back to MacQueen. "I'll have to tell you onething--I'll hate you worse than ever after this. Don't think I'll everchange my mind about that. I won't."

  He twirled his little mustache complacently.

  "I'll have to risk that, as I said."

  "You'll take me to Mesa to-day. As soon as we get there a justice of thepeace will marry us. From his house we'll go directly to father's. Youwon't lie to me."

  "No. I'll play out the game square, if you do."

  "And after we're married, what then?"

  "You may stay at home until I get this ransom business settled. Then we'llgo to Sonora."

  "How do you know I'll go?"

  "I'll trust you."

  "Then it's a bargain."

  Without another word, they turned back to rejoin the group by the cabin.Before they had gone a dozen steps she stopped.

  "What about Mr. Flatray? You will free him, of course."

  "Yes. I'll take him right out due north of here, about four miles
. He'llbe blindfolded. There we'll leave him, with instructions how to reachMesa."

  "I'll go with you," she announced promptly.

  "What for?"

  "To make sure that you do let him go--alive."

  He shrugged his shoulders. "All right. I told you I was going to playfair. I haven't many good points, but that is one of them. I don't give myword and then break it."

  "Still, I'll go."

  He laughed angrily. "That's your privilege."

  She turned on him passionately. "You've got no right to resent it, thoughI don't care a jackstraw whether you do or not. I'm not going into thisbecause I want to, but to save this man from the den of wolves into whichhe has fallen. If you knew how I despise and hate you, how my whole soulloathes you, maybe you wouldn't be so eager to go on with it! You'll getnothing out of this but the pleasure of torturing a girl who can't defendherself."

  "We'll see about that," he answered doggedly.