The Trail to Yesterday

by Charles Alden Seltzer

  CHAPTER XIV

  LANGFORD LAYS OFF THE MASK

  The sun was still an hour above the horizon when Sheila rode up to thecorral gates. While removing the saddle and bridle from her pony she notedwith satisfaction that the horse which her father had been accustomed toride was inside the corral. Therefore her father was somewhere about.

  Hanging the saddle and bridle from a rail of the corral fence, she wentinto the house to find that Langford was not there. Duncan's sister curtlyinformed her that she had seen him a few minutes before down at thestables. Sheila went into the office, which was a lean-to addition to theranchhouse, and seating herself at her father's desk picked up a sixmonth's old copy of a magazine and tried to read.

  Finding that she could not concentrate her thoughts, she dropped themagazine into her lap and leaned back with a sigh. From where she sat shehad a good view of the stables, and fifteen minutes later, while she stillwatched, she saw Langford come out of one of the stable doors and walktoward the house. She felt absolutely no emotion whatever over his coming;there was only a mild curiosity in her mind as to the manner in which hewould take the news of her intended departure from the Double R. Sheobserved, with a sort of detached interest, that he looked twice at hersaddle and bridle as he passed them, and so of course he surmised that shehad come in from her ride. For a moment she lost sight of him behind somebuildings, and then he opened the door of the office and entered.

  He stopped on the threshold for an instant and looked at her, evidentlyexpecting her to offer her usual greeting. He frowned slightly when it didnot come, and then smiled.

  "Hello!" he said cordially. "You are back, I see. And tired," he added,noting her position. He walked over and laid a hand on her forehead andshe involuntarily shrank from his touch, shuddering, for the hand which hehad placed on her forehead was the right one--the hand with which he hadsigned the agreement with Dakota--Doubler's death warrant.

  "Don't, please," she said.

  "Cross, too?" he said jocularly.

  "Just tired," she lied listlessly, and with an air of great indifference.

  He looked critically at her for an instant, then smiled again and draggeda chair over near a window and looked out, apparently little concernedover her manner. But she noted that he glanced furtively at her severaltimes, and that he seemed greatly satisfied over something. She wonderedif he had seen Dakota; if he knew that the latter had already attempted tocarry out the agreement to "Persuade Doubler to leave the county."

  "Ride far?" he questioned, turning and facing her, his voice casual.

  "Not very far."

  "The river trail?"

  Sheila nodded, and saw a sudden interest flash into his eyes.

  "Which way?" he asked quickly.

  "Down," she returned. She had not lied, for she _had_ ridden "down," andthough she had also ridden up the river she preferred to let him guess alittle, for she resented the curiosity in his voice and was determined tobroach the subject which she had in mind in her own time and after themanner that suited her best.

  He had not been interested in her for a long time, had not appeared tocare where she spent her time. Why should he betray interest now? She sawa mysterious smile on his face and knew before he spoke that his apparentinterest in her was not genuine--that he was merely curious.

  "Then you haven't heard the news?" he said softly. He was looking out ofthe window now, and she could not see his face.

  She took up the magazine and turned several pages, pretending to read, butin reality waiting for him to continue. When he made no effort to do soher own curiosity got the better of her.

  "What news?" she questioned, without looking at him.

  "About Doubler," he said. "He is dead."

  Her surprise was genuine, and her hands trembled as the leaves of themagazine fluttered and closed. Had the nester died since she had left hiscabin? A moment's thought convinced her that this could not be theexplanation, for assuredly she would have seen anyone who had arrived atDoubler's cabin; she had scanned the surrounding country before and afterleaving the vicinity of the crossing and had seen no signs of anyone.Besides, Langford's news seemed to have abided with him a long time--itseemed to her that he had known it for hours. She could not tell why shefelt this, but she was certain that he had not received wordrecently--within an hour or two at any rate--unless he had seen Dakota.

  This seemed to be the secret of his knowledge, and the more she consideredthe latter's excitement during her meeting with him on the trail, the morefully she became convinced that Langford had talked to him. The latter'sanxiety to relieve her of the task of riding to Lazette for the doctor hadbeen spurious; he had merely wanted to be the first to carry the news ofDoubler's death to Langford, and after leaving her he had undoubtedlytaken a roundabout trail for the Double R. Possibly by this time he hadsettled with Langford and was on his way out of the country.

  "Dead?" she said, turning to Langford. "Who----" In her momentaryexcitement she had come very near to asking him who had brought him thenews. She hesitated, for she saw a glint of surprise and suspicion in hiseyes.

  "My dear girl, did I say that he had been 'killed'?"

  His smile was without humor. Evidently he had expected that she had beenabout to ask who had killed the nester.

  He looked at her steadily, an intolerant smile playing about the cornersof his mouth. "I am aware that you have been suspicious of me ever sinceyou heard that I had a quarrel with Doubler. But, thank God, my dear, Ihave not that crime to answer for. Doubler, however, has beenkilled--murdered."

  Sheila repressed a desire to shudder, and turned from Langford so that hewould not be able to see the disgust that had come into her eyes over thediscovery that in addition to being a murderer her father was that mostdespicable of all living things--a hypocrite! It required all of hercomposure to be able to look at him again.

  "Who killed him?" she asked evenly.

  "Dakota, my dear."

  "Dakota!" She pronounced the name abstractedly, for she was surprised atthe admission.

  "How do you know that Dakota killed him?" she said, looking straight athim. He changed color, though his manner was still smooth and his smilebland.

  "Duncan was fortunate enough to be in the vicinity when the deed wascommitted," he told her. "And he saw Dakota shoot him in the back. Withhis own rifle, too."

  There was a quality in his voice which hinted at satisfaction; a peculiaremphasis on the word "fortunate" which caused Sheila to wonder why heshould consider it fortunate that Duncan had seen the murder done, when itwould have been much better for the success of Dakota's and her father'sscheme if there had been no witness to it at all.

  "However," continued Langford, with a sigh of resignation that causedSheila a shiver of repugnance and horror, "Doubler's death will not be avery great loss to the country. Duncan tells me that he has long beensuspected of cattle stealing, and sooner or later he would have beencaught in the act. And as for Dakota," he laughed harshly, with a note ofsuppressed triumph that filled her with an unaccountable resentment;"Dakota is an evil in the country, too. Do you remember how he killed thatMexican half-breed over in Lazette that day?--the day I came? Wantonmurder, I call it. Such a man is a danger and a menace, and I shall not besorry to see him hanged for killing Doubler."

  "Then you will have Duncan charge Dakota with the murder?"

  "Of course, my dear; why shouldn't I? Assuredly you would not allow Dakotato go unpunished?"

  "No," said Sheila, "Doubler's murderer should be punished."

  Two things were now fixed in her mind as certainties. Dakota had not beento see her father since she had left him on the river trail; he had notreceived his blood-money--would never receive it. Her father had nointention of living up to his agreement with Dakota and intended to allowhim to be hanged. She thought of the signed agreement in her bodice.Langford had given it to Dakota, but she had little doubt that in caseDakota still had it in his possession and dared to produce it, Langfordwould deny having
made it--would probably term it a forgery. It washarmless, too; who would be likely to intimate that the clause regardingDakota inducing Doubler to leave the country meant that Langford had hiredDakota to kill the nester? Sheila sat silent, looking at Langford,wondering how it happened that he had been able to masquerade so longbefore her; why she had permitted herself to love a being so depraved, soentirely lacking in principle.

  But a thrill of hope swept over her. Perhaps Doubler would not die? Shehad been considering the situation from the viewpoint of the nester'sdeath, but if Dakota had really been in earnest and had gone for a doctor,there was a chance that the tragedy which seemed so imminent would beturned into something less serious. Immediately her spirits rose and shewas able to smile quietly at Langford when he continued:

  "Dakota will be hung, of course; decency demands it. When Duncan came tome with the news I sent him instantly to Lazette to inform the sheriff ofwhat had happened. Undoubtedly he will take Dakota into custody at once."

  "But not for murder," said Sheila evenly, unable to keep a quiver oftriumph out of her voice.

  "Not?" said Langford, startled. "Why not?"

  "Because," returned Sheila, enjoying the sudden consternation that wasrevealed in her father's face, and drawling her words a little to furtherconfound him; "because Doubler isn't dead."

  "Not dead!" Langford's jaws sagged, and he sat looking at Sheila withwide, staring, vacuous eyes. "Not dead?" he repeated hoarsely. "Why,Duncan told me he had examined him, that he had been shot through thelungs and had bled to death before he left him! How do you know that he isnot dead?" he suddenly demanded, leaning toward her, a wild hope in hiseyes.

  "I went to his cabin before noon," said Sheila. "I found him lying in thedoorway. He had been shot through the right side, near the shoulder, butnot through the lung, and he was still alive. I dragged him into the cabinand did what I could for him. Then I started for the doctor."

  "For the doctor?" he said incredulously. "Then how does it happen that youare here? You couldn't possibly ride to Lazette and return by this time!"

  "I believe I said that I 'started' for the doctor," said Sheila with aquiet smile. She was enjoying his excitement. "I met Dakota on the trail,and he went."

  Langford continued to stare at her; it seemed that he could not realizethe truth. Then suddenly he was out of his chair and standing over her,his face bloated poisonously, his eyes ablaze with a malignant light.

  "Damn you!" he shrieked. "This is what comes of your infernal meddling!What business had you to interfere? Why didn't you let him die? I've anotion----"

  His hands clenched and unclenched before her eyes, and she sat withblanched face, certain that he was about to attack her--perhaps kill her.She did not seem to care much, however, and looked up into his facesteadily and defiantly.

  After a moment, however, he regained control of himself, leaving her sideand pacing rapidly back and forth in the office, cursing bitterly.

  Curiously, Sheila was not surprised at this outburst; she had ratherexpected it since she had become aware of his real character. Nor was shesurprised to discover that he had dropped pretense altogether--he wasbound to do that sooner or later. Her only surprise was at her ownfeelings. She did not experience the slightest concern over him--it was asthough she were talking to a stranger. She was interested to the point oftaking a grim enjoyment out of his confusion, but beyond that she was notinterested in anything.

  It made little difference to her what became of Langford, Dakota,Duncan--any of them, except Doubler. She intended to return to thenester's cabin, to help the doctor make him comfortable--for he had beenthe only person in the country who had shown her any kindness; he was theonly one who had not wronged her, and she was grateful to him.

  Langford was standing over her again, his breath coming short and fast.

  "Where did you see Dakota?" he questioned hoarsely. "Answer!" he added,when she did not speak immediately.

  "On the river trail."

  "Before you found Doubler?"

  "Before, yes--and after. I met him twice."

  She discerned his motive in asking these questions, but it made nodifference to her and she answered truthfully. She did not intend toshield Dakota; the fact that Doubler had not been killed outright did notlessen the gravity of the offense in her eyes.

  "Before you found Doubler!" Langford's voice came with a vicious snap."You met him coming from Doubler's cabin, I suppose?"

  "Yes," she answered wearily, "I met him coming from there. I was on thetrail--going there--and I heard the shot. I know Dakota killed him."

  Langford made an exclamation of satisfaction.

  "Well, it isn't so bad, after all. You'll have to be a witness againstDakota. And very likely Doubler will die--probably is dead by this time;will certainly be dead before the Lazette doctor can reach his cabin. No,my dear," he added, smiling at Sheila, "it isn't so bad, after all."

  Sheila rose. Her poignant anger against him was equaled only by herdisgust. He expected her to bear witness against Dakota; desired her toparticipate in his scheme to fasten upon the latter the entire blame forthe commission of a crime in which he himself was the moving factor.

  "I shall not bear witness against him," she told Langford coldly. "For Iam going away--back East--to-morrow. Don't imagine that I have been incomplete ignorance of what has been going on; that I have been unaware ofthe part you have played in the shooting of Doubler. I have known forquite a long while that you had decided to have Doubler murdered, and onlyrecently I learned that you hired Dakota to kill him. And this morning,when I met Dakota on the river trail, he dropped this from a pocket of hisvest." She fumbled at her bodice and produced the signed agreement,holding it out to him.

  As she expected, he repudiated it, though his face paled a little as heread it.

  "This is a forgery, my dear," he said, in the old, smooth, even voice thatshe had grown to despise.

  "No," she returned calmly, "it is not a forgery. You forget that only aminute ago you practically admitted it to be a true agreement by tellingme that I should have allowed Doubler to die. You are an accomplice in theshooting of Doubler, and if I am compelled to testify in Dakota's trial Ishall tell everything I know."

  She watched while he lighted a match, held it to the paper, smiling as thelicking flames consumed it. He was entirely composed now, and through thegathering darkness of the interior of the office she saw a sneer come intohis face.

  "I shall do all I can to assist you to discontinue the associations whichare so distasteful to you. You will start for the East immediately, Ipresume?"

  "To-morrow," she said. "In the afternoon. I shall have my trunks takenover to Lazette in the morning."

  "In the morning?" said Langford, puzzled. "Why not ride over with them, inthe afternoon, in the buckboard?"

  "I shall ride my pony. The man can return him." She took a step toward thedoor, but halted before reaching it, turning to look back at him.

  "I don't think it is necessary for me to say good-by. But you have nottreated me badly in the past, and I thank you--for that--and wish youwell."

  "Where are you going?"

  Sheila had walked to the door and stood with one hand on the latch. Hecame and stood beside her, a suppressed excitement in his manner, his eyesgleaming brightly in the dusk which had suddenly fallen.

  "I think I told you that before. Ben Doubler is alone, and he needs care.I am going to him--to stay with him until the doctor arrives. He will dieif someone does not take care of him."

  "You are determined to continue to meddle, are you?" he said, his voicequivering with anger, his lips working strangely. "I am sick of yourdamned interference. Sick of it, I tell you!" His voice lowered to aharsh, throaty whisper. "You won't leave this office until to-morrowafternoon! Do you hear? What business is it of yours if Doubler dies?"

  Sheila did not answer, but pressed the door latch. His arm suddenlyinterposed, his fingers closing on her arm, gripping it so tightly thatshe cried out with pain. Th
en suddenly his fingers were boring into hershoulders; she was twisted, helpless in his brutal grasp, and flung bodilyinto the chair beside the desk, where she sat, sobbing breathlessly.

  She did not cry out again, but sat motionless, her lips quivering, rubbingher shoulders where his iron fingers had sunk into the flesh, her soulfilled with a revolting horror for his brutality.

  For a moment there was no movement. Then, in the semi-darkness she saw himleave the door; watched him as he approached a shelf on which stood akerosene lamp, lifted the chimney and applied a match to the wick. For aninstant after replacing the chimney he stood full in the glare of light,his face contorted with rage, his eyes gleaming with venom.

  "Now you know exactly where I stand, you--you huzzy!" he said, grinningsatyrically as she winced under the insult. "I'm your father, damn you!Your father--do you hear? And I'll not have you go back East to gab andgossip about me. You'll stay here, and you'll bear witness against Dakota,and you'll keep quiet about me!" He was trembling horribly as he cameclose to her, and his breath was coughing in his throat shrilly.

  "I won't do anything of the kind!" Sheila got to her feet, and stood,rigid with anger, her eyes flaming defiance. "I am going to Doubler'scabin this minute, and if you molest me again I shall go to the sheriffwith my story!"

  He seemed about to attack her again, and his hands were raised as thoughto grasp her throat, when there came a sound at the door, it swung open,and Dakota stepped in, closing the door behind him.

  Dakota's face was white--white as it had been that other day at thequicksand crossing when Sheila had looked up to see him sitting on hispony, watching her. There was an entire absence of excitement in hismanner, though; no visible sign to tell that what he had seen on enteringthe cabin disturbed him in the least. Yet the whiteness of his face beliedthis apparent composure. It seemed to Sheila that his eyes betrayed thestrong emotion that was gripping him.

  She retreated to the chair beside the desk and sank into it. Langford hadwheeled and was now facing Dakota, a shallow smile on his face.

  There was a smile on Dakota's face, too; a mysterious, cold, prepared grinthat fascinated Sheila as she watched him. The smile faded a little whenhe spoke to Langford, his voice vibrating, as though he had been running.

  "When you're fighting a woman, Langford, you ought to make sure thereisn't a man around!"

  Mingling with Sheila's recognition of the obvious and admirable philosophyof this statement was a realization that Dakota must have been ridinghard. There was much dust on his clothing, the scarf at his neck was thickwith it; it streaked his face, his voice was husky, his lips dry.

  Langford did not answer him, stepping back against the desk and regardinghim with a mirthless, forced smile which, Sheila was certain, he hadassumed in order to conceal his fear of the man who stood before him.

  "So you haven't got any thoughts just at this minute," said Dakota withcold insinuation. "You are one of those men who can talk bravely enough towomen, but who can't think of anything exactly proper for a man to hear.Well, you'll do your talking later." He looked at Sheila, ignoringLangford completely.

  "I expect you've been wondering, ma'am, why I'm here, when I ought to beover at the Two Forks, trying to do something for Doubler. But thedoctor's there, taking care of him. The reason I've come is that I'vefound this in Doublet's cabin." He drew out the memoranda which Sheila hadplaced on the shelf in the cabin, holding it up so that she might see.

  "You took my vest," he went on. "And I was looking for it. I found it allright, but something was missing. You're the only one who has been toDoubler's cabin since I left there, I expect, and it must have been youwho opened this book. It isn't in the same shape it was when you pulled itoff me when I was talking to you down there on the river trail--somethinghas been taken out of it, a paper. That's why I rode over here--to see ifyou'd got it. Have you, ma'am?"

  Sheila pointed mutely to the floor, where a bit of thin, crinkled ash wasall that remained of the signed agreement.

  "Burned!" said Dakota sharply.

  He caught Sheila's nod and questioned coldly:

  "Who burned it?"

  "My--Mr. Langford," returned Sheila.

  "You found it and showed it to him, and he burned it," said Dakota slowly."Why?"

  "Don't you see?" Sheila's eyes mocked Langford as she intercepted hisgaze, which had been fixed on Dakota. "It was evidence against him," sheconcluded, indicating her father.

  "I reckon I see." The smile was entirely gone out of Dakota's face now,and as he turned to look at Langford there was an expression in his eyeswhich chilled the latter.

  "You've flunked on the agreement. You've burned it--won't recognize it,eh? Well, I'm not any surprised."

  Langford had partially recovered from the shock occasioned by Dakota'sunexpected appearance, and he shook his head in emphatic, brazen denial.

  "There was no agreement between us, my friend," he said. "The paper Iburned was a forgery."

  Dakota's lips hardened. "You called me your friend once before, Langford,"he said coldly. "Don't do it again or I'll forget that you are Sheila'sfather. I reckon she has told you about Doubler. That's why I came overhere to get the paper, for I knew that if you got hold of it you'd makeshort work of it. I know something else." He took a step forward and triedto hold Langford's gaze, his own eyes filled with a snapping menace. "Iknow that you've sent Duncan to Lazette for the sheriff. The doctor toldme he'd met him,--Duncan--and the doctor says Duncan told him that you'dsaid that I fixed Doubler. How do you know I did?"

  "Duncan saw you," said Langford.

  Dakota's lips curled. "Duncan tell you that?" he questioned.

  At Langford's nod he laughed harshly. "So it's a plant, eh?" he said, witha mirthless chuckle. "You are figuring to get two birds with onestone--Doubler and me. You've already got Doubler, or think you have, andnow it's my turn. It does look pretty bad for me, for a fact, doesn't it?You've burned the agreement you made with me, so that you could slip outof your obligation. I reckon you think that after the sheriff gets meyou'll be able to take the Star without any trouble--like you expect totake Doubler's land.

  "You've got Duncan to swear that he saw me do for Doubler, and you've gotyour daughter to testify that she saw me on the trail, coming fromDoubler's cabin right after she heard the shooting. It was a right cleverscheme, but it was my fault for letting you get anything on me--I ought tohave known that you'd try some dog's trick or other."

  His voice was coming rapidly, sharply, and was burdened with a lashingsarcasm. "Yes, it's a right clever scheme, Mister Langford, and it oughtto be successful. But there's one thing you've forgot. I've lived too longin this country to let anyone tangle me up like you'd like to have me.When a man gets double crossed in this country, he can't go to the law forredress--he makes his own laws. I'm making mine. You've double crossed me,and damn your hide, I'm going to send you over the divide in a hurry!"

  One of his heavy revolvers leaped from its holster and showed for aninstant in his right hand. Sheila had been watching closely, forewarned byDakota's manner, and when she saw his right hand drop to the holster shesprang upon him, catching the weapon by the muzzle.

  Langford had covered his face with his hands, and stood beside the desk,trembling, and Sheila cried aloud in protest when she saw Dakota draw theweapon that swung at his other hip, holding her off with the hand whichshe had seized. But when Dakota saw Langford's hands go to his face hehesitated, smiling scornfully. He turned to Sheila, looking down at herface close to his, his smile softening.

  "I forgot," he said gently; "I forgot he is your father."

  "It isn't that," she said. "He isn't my father, any more. But--" shelooked at Dakota pleadingly--"please don't shoot him. Go--leave thecountry. You have plenty of time. You have enough to answer for. Pleasego!"

  For answer he grasped her by the shoulders, swinging her around so thatshe faced him,--as he had forced her to face him that day on the rivertrail--and there was a regretful, admiring gleam in hi
s eyes.

  "You told him--" he jerked a thumb toward Langford--"that you wouldn'tbear witness against me. I heard you. You're a true blue girl, and yourfather's a fool or he wouldn't lose you, like he is going to lose you. IfI had you I would take mighty good care that you didn't get away from me.You've given me some mighty good advice, and I would act on it if I wasguilty of shooting Doubler. But I didn't shoot him--your father and Duncanhave framed up on me. Doubler isn't dead yet, and so I'm not running away.If Doubler had someone to nurse him, he might--" He hesitated and lookedat her with a strange smile. "You think I shot Doubler, too, don't you?Well, there's a chance that if we can get Doubler revived he can tell whodid shoot him. Do you want to know the truth? I heard you say a while ago,while I was standing at the window, looking in at your father giving ademonstration of his love for you, that you intended going over toDoubler's shack to nurse him. If you're still of the same mind, I'll takeyou over there."

  Sheila was at the door in an instant, but halted on the threshold tolisten to Dakota's parting word to Langford.

  "Mister man," he said enigmatically, "there's just one thing that I wantto say to you. There's a day coming when you'll think thoughts--plenty ofthem."

  In a flash he had stepped outside the door and closed it after him.

  A few minutes later, still standing beside the desk, Langford heard therapid beat of hoofs on the hard sand of the corral yard. Faint theybecame, and their rhythmic beat faster, until they died away entirely. ButDakota's words still lingered in Langford's mind, and it seemed to himthat they conveyed a prophecy.