The One-Way Trail: A story of the cattle country

by Ridgwell Cullum

  CHAPTER XXXVII

  GOLD

  The gray of dawn had passed. Now the rosy light of day was spreadingits fresh beauty across the heavens, and gladdening the warming air,and painting afresh with generous brush the rolling, open worldbelow.

  Yes, the drab of dawn was past, and, as it was with all Nature aboutthem, the rosy light of hope brushed lightly the weary hearts of thosewho had just passed through the fiery trials of the furnace ofdespair.

  There were three people only standing beneath the tree, under whoseshadow a man's life so recently was to have been offered a sacrificeto human justice--two men and a woman. There was something else there,but life had passed from it, and it lay there waiting, in the calmpatience of the last, long sleep, to return to the clay from which itsprang.

  Eve was kneeling beside the deformed body of her poor brother. Hertears were falling fast as she bent over the pale upturned face, evenmore beautiful still since Death had hugged him to its harsh bosom.All the woman's passionate love and regrets were pouring out over theunconscious clay. His cruelties, his weaknesses were forgotten,brushed away by an infinite love that had no power nor inclination tojudge.

  She loved him, and he was dead. He was gone beyond her ken; and forthe moment in her grief she longed to be with him. In the midst ofher tears she prayed--prayed for the poor weak soul, winging its wayin the mysterious Beyond. She asked Him that his sins might beforgiven. She prayed Him that the great loving forbearance, so readilyyielded to suffering humanity, might be shed upon that weak, benightedsoul. She poured out all the longings of her simple woman's heart in apassionate prayer that the Great Christ, who had shed His blood forall sinners, would stretch out His saving hand, and take her brother'serring spirit once again to His bosom.

  The two men stood by in silence. Their heads were bowed in reverence.They, too, felt something of the woman's grief.

  But presently Peter Blunt raised his head. His kindly blue eyes werefull of sympathy. He moved across the intervening grass, and laid ahand with infinite tenderness upon the woman's shoulder.

  "We must take him with us," he said gently.

  The woman started, and looked up through her tears.

  "Take him? Take him?" she questioned, without understanding.

  Peter nodded.

  "We'll take him to--his new home."

  Eve bowed her head and covered her eyes with her hands.

  "He's yours, Eve," the man went on softly. "Shall I?"

  The woman nodded silently and rose to her feet. Peter stooped andpicked the boy up in his arms to carry him as he had carried himbefore. Then he moved off and Eve followed him.

  Jim hesitated for a moment. It almost seemed as though he had no rightto force himself upon the woman's grief. It seemed to him likesacrilege, and yet---- Finally he, too, joined in the silentprocession.

  They followed whither Peter chose to lead. There was no question. Itwas not a moment for question. The kindly heart dictated. It was onlyfor the others to acquiesce. Peter, too, perhaps in lesser degree, hadloved the boy. But then it was in his nature to love all sufferinghumanity. He had never had anything but kindness for Elia in life. Nowthat he was dead his feelings were no less.

  So they trailed across the prairie--on, slowly and solemnly on. Theircourse was marked straight as an arrow's flight in Peter's mind. Nordid he pause till the mound of gravel beside his cutting was reached.

  He stood at the brink of the shallow pit. There in its depths lay abroad, jagged, soil-stained ridge. Here and there on its rough surfacepatches of dazzling white, streaked with the more generous tints ofdeep red, and blue, and green, showed where the hard-driven pick hadsplit the gold-bearing quartz.

  Eve stared wonderingly down. Jim looked on in silent awe. He knewsomething of that which was in Peter's mind. Peter had found thedeposits for which he had so long searched. Here--here was the greatreef, round which the Indian stories had been woven.

  He laid his burden on the edge of the pit. Then he clambered down intoit. He signed to Jim, and the waiting man understood. He carefullypassed the boy's body to the man below.

  Then he stood up, and Eve came to his side. Silently she rested onehand upon his shoulder, and together they watched the other at hiswork.

  With the utmost tenderness Peter laid the boy down on his gravellybed. They saw that the dead lad's face was turned so that its cheekrested against the cold, auriferous quartz. Then the man untied thesilk scarf about his own neck and laid it over the waxen face. Then hestood up and stripped the shoring planks from the walls of the pit,and placed them a solid covering over the boy's body, resting them ontwo large stones, one at his head and one at his feet. Finally hetested their solidity, and climbed out of the grave.

  Now he joined the others, and gazed silently down into the pit. Forsome moments he stood thus, until presently he glanced across at theeastern sky. A fiery line, like the light of a distant prairie fire,hovered upon the horizon. He knew it was the rising of the sun.

  He turned to the still weeping woman.

  "Little Eve," he said gently, pointing into the pit. "There's goldlies there. He wanted it, and--and I promised he should have it. Jim,"he turned, and looked into the dark eyes of his friend, "that poor,weak, suffering lad saved you, because--because you'd been good tohim. Well, old lad, I guess now that we've found some of the gold thatlies here in Barnriff, we--we must be content. We mustn't take it withus, we mustn't rob those who need. We've found it, so we'll just coverit up again, and hope and pray that it may multiply and bear fruit.Then we'll mark it with a headstone, so that others may know that thisgold is to be found if folks will only seek long enough, and hardenough beneath the surface."

  Jim nodded. He understood.

  Then, as the great arc of the morning sun lifted above the horizon,both men picked up the shovels lying close by them, and buried foreverthe treasure Peter had found.

  CHAPTER XXXVIII

  ON, OVER THE ONE-WAY TRAIL

  Eve's door was suddenly pushed open. She did not look up from hersewing-machine. She guessed who her visitor was.

  "Sit down, Annie, dear," she said, cordially. "I'll be through withthis in a moment."

  Her visitor took the proffered chair and smiled, while the busymachine rattled down the last seam of the skirt on which the other wasbusy.

  Eve was very good to look upon, as she bent over her work, and hervisitor was well content to wait. Her slight figure was delightfullygracious; her pretty hair, loosely dressed, looked to have all thevelvet softness and lustre of spun silk. Her face was hidden, but thebeautifully moulded outline of her cheek was visible. There was such awholesome air of purpose in her attitude that it was quite easy toimagine that the shadows of the past had long since faded from hergentle eyes, that youth had again conquered, now that those gray dayshad lightened to the rosy summer of peace.

  Something of this was passing through the man's mind as he hungrilydevoured the beauty, which for so long had held him its slave.

  It was nearly two months since the happenings which had so nearlyended Jim Thorpe's earthly career. Two months during which he hadhonestly struggled to regain that footing he had once held in thedistrict. And now the fall was advancing, and the hopes of winningthrough with the people of the place seemed as far off as ever.

  Prejudice still clung. Barnriff, willing enough to accept his actualinnocence on the double charges made against him, still could notforget that he had helped the real thief to escape. It matterednothing to them that in the end the man had died a violent death. Hehad been helped to escape--their justice. So there was no employmentof any sort in Barnriff for Jim Thorpe. And Eve, too, was onlycompleting orders which had been placed with her weeks before.

  "There," she said, raising her needle and removing the stuff frombeneath it. "I hate it, and I'm glad it's done."

  She looked up with a smile to encounter the dark eyes of Jim Thorpe.

  "You?" she cried, in a tone that should have made him glad. "Why, Ithought surely it was Annie. Bu
t there, I might have known. Anniewould not have sat silent so long. You see she was coming over for agossip. But I s'pose it's too early for her."

  Jim noticed now that something of the old happy light was in her eyesagain. That joyous light which he had not seen in them for nearly ayear. What a wonderful thing was youth.

  "I saw her as I came along," he said slowly. "She said she'd come_after_ supper. She sent her love, and said she was going to bring ashirt-waist to get fixed."

  "The dear thing! It's the one thing that makes my life here possible,Jim. I mean her friendship. She's the only one in all the village thatcan forget things. I mean among the women." She came round the tableand sat on its edge facing him, staring out of the window at the ruddysunset with eyes that had suddenly become shadowed with regret. "Menaren't like that, it seems to me. They're fierce, and violent, and allthat, but most of them have pretty big hearts when their anger ispast."

  Jim's eyes smiled whimsically.

  "Do you think so?" he said. "Guess maybe I won't contradict you, butit seems to me I've learned pretty well how large their hearts are--inthe last two months."

  "You mean--you can get no work?"

  The man nodded. But he had no bitterness now. He had learned hislesson from Peter Blunt. He had no blame for the weaknesses of humannature. Why should he have? Who was he to judge?

  There was a silence for some moments. Eve continued to gaze at thesunset. The glorious ever-changing lights held her physical vision,but her mind was traveling in that realm of woman's thought, whitherno mere man can follow it.

  It was Jim who spoke at last.

  "But I didn't come to--to air troubles," he said thoughtfully. "I cameto tell you of two things. One of 'em is Peter. He's packing hiswagon. He goes at sun-up to-morrow. He says he must move on--keepmoving. He says all that held him to Barnriff is finished with, so nowthere's nothing left but to hit the trail."

  "Poor old Peter!" Eve murmured softly. "I s'pose he means the goldbusiness?"

  "Maybe," replied the man, without conviction.

  "Why--what do you mean?"

  Eve's eyes were widely questioning. The other shrugged.

  "You can't tell. It's hard to get at what's passing through his quaintmind. I don't think gold interests him as much as you'd think. Peterhas plenty of money. Do you know, he offered to advance me tenthousand dollars to buy up a ranch around here. He pressed it on me,and tried to make out it would be a favor to him if I took it. Said Ididn't know how much I'd be obliging him. He's a good man. A--awonderful man. I tried to get him to stop on--but----"

  "I don't blame him for going," said Eve, regretfully.

  "Nor do I."

  Again that silence fell, and each was busy with thoughts they neithercould easily have expressed.

  "What's the other?" Eve inquired presently. "You said--two things."

  "Did I? Oh, yes, of course."

  But Jim did not at once tell her the other reason for his visit.Instead he sat thinking of many things, and all his thoughts werecentred round her. He was thinking the honest thoughts of a man wholoves a woman so well that he shrinks from offering her so little ofworldly goods as he possesses. He had come there, as a man will come,to hover round and burn his fingers at the fire which he has not thecourage to turn his back upon. He had come there to tell her that hewas going away, even as Peter was going--going away to make one moreof those many starts which it had been his lot to make in the past.

  "Well?" Eve faced him with smiling eyes. She understood that hissecond reason was troubling him, and she wanted to encourage him.

  He shook his head.

  "It isn't a scrap 'well,'" he said, with an attempt at a lightness hedid not feel.

  "Nothing can be so bad, as--as some things," she said. Her eyes hadbecome serious again. She was thinking of those two short months ago.

  "No," he breathed, with a sigh. "I--I suppose not." Then with adesperate effort he blurted out his resolve. "I'm going away, too," hesaid clumsily.

  His announcement cost him more than he knew. But Eve showed not theleast bit of astonishment.

  "I knew you would," she said. Then she added, as though following outa thought which had been hers for a long time, "You see there are somethings nobody can put up with--for long. Barnriff, for instance, whenit turns against you."

  Jim nodded. Her understanding delighted him, and he went on moreeasily.

  "I've one hundred and fifty head of stock, and a thousand odddollars," he said deliberately. "I'm going to make a fresh start."

  He laughed, and somehow his laugh hurt the woman. She understood.

  "Don't laugh like that, Jim," she said gently. "It's--it's not likeyou."

  "I'm sorry, Eve," he replied in swift contrition. "But--but it's notmuch, is it?"

  "I seem to fancy it's quite a deal." The girl's face wore a delightfulsmile. "Where are you thinking of?"

  "We've just come over to say that we, too, are going tohit the trail."]

  "Canada. Edmonton. It's a longish piece off, but it's good land--andcheap."

  "It's British."

  "Ye-es."

  "It's not under the 'stars and stripes.'"

  "Most flags are made of bunting."

  The girl nodded her head.

  "A monarchy, too," she said.

  "Monarchs and presidents are both men."

  Jim's love for his flag was a sore point with him, and he gatheredthat Eve disapproved. He wanted her approval. He wanted it more thananything else, because---- Suddenly he remembered something.

  "Peter's English," he said slyly.

  "God bless him!"

  The fervor of the woman's response was unmistakable.

  "I must see him to-night before he goes," she went on, "because--I'vegot something to tell him."

  She looked down at the table on which the dress she had just finishedmaking was lying.

  "That's the last of them," she said, pointing at it.

  The man knew what she meant. She had completed her last order.

  "I'm going to do no more--here."

  Jim's eyes lit.

  "Here?"

  Eve shook her head.

  "I'm going away," she said, with a shamefaced smile. "That's--that'swhat I want to tell--Peter."

  Jim sprang to his feet, and looked into the bright smiling eyes.

  "I've got a sewing-machine," Eve went on, deliberately mimicking him,"and--and some dollars. And I'm going to make a fresh start."

  Her manner of detailing her stock-in-trade, and the smile thataccompanied her words were good to see. Jim's heart beat hard beneathhis buckskin shirt, and the light in his eyes was one of a hope suchas he rarely permitted himself.

  "Where?" he demanded. But he knew before she said the words.

  "Canada, Edmonton. It's--it's a longish piece off--but----"

  Eve never finished her mimicry. In a moment she was in his arms, andher lips were silenced with his kisses.

  Some minutes later she protested.

  "You haven't let me finish, Jim," she cried.

  But he shook his head.

  "No need. I'll tell you the rest. We'll start in together, up there,and--we'll keep the sewing-machine for home use. You see my socks 'llsure need darning."

  "Silly. You don't do that with a sewing-machine."

  * * * * *

  Peter's spring wagon was standing outside his door. It was a quaint,old-fashioned vehicle--just such a conveyance as one would expect himto possess. It had lain idle during most of his time in Barnriff, andhad suffered much from the stress of bitter winters and the blisteringsun of summers. But it still possessed four clattering wheels, eventhough the woodwork and the tires looked conspicuously like partingcompany.

  The last of his household goods, with the exception of his blankets,had been loaded up. There was a confused pile of gold-prospectingtools and domestic chattels. Books and "washing" pans, pictures andsteel drills, jostled with each other in a manner thoroughlycharacteristic
of his disregard for the comforts of life. Thesematerial matters concerned him so little.

  He was scraping out a large frying-pan, the one utensil which sharedwith his "billy" the privilege of supplying him with a means ofcooking his food. The work he was engaged upon was something of astrain. It seemed so unnecessary. Still, the process was his habit ofyears, so he did not attempt to shirk it. But he looked up with reliefwhen he heard voices, and a glad smile of welcome greeted Jim and Eveas they came up.

  "Peter, I've----"

  "Peter, we've----"

  Jim and Eve both began to speak at the same time. And both broke offto let the other go on.

  Peter glanced swiftly from one to the other. His shrewd eyes took inthe situation at once.

  "I'm glad," he said, "real glad. Jim," he went on, "I guess yourluck's set in. Eve, my dear, your luck's running, too. I'm justglad."

  The culprits exchanged swift glances of astonishment. Eve blushed, butit was Jim who answered him.

  "Guess you see things easy, Peter," he said. "But you aren't as gladas I am."

  "We are," corrected Eve.

  Peter bent over his work again, smiling at the friendly pan withrenewed interest. He scraped some long congealed black grease from itsshoulder and gazed at it ruefully.

  "Look at that," he said, with his quaint smile, holding up the knifewith the unwholesome fat sticking to it. "Guess your pans won't getlike that, eh, Eve?" Then he added with a sigh, "It's sure time I hitthe trail. It's been accumulating too long already. Y'see," he went onsimply, "it's a good thing moving at times. Things need cleaning oncein a while."

  He threw the pan into the wagon-box with a sigh of relief, and turnedagain to his two friends.

  "I'd ask you to sit," he began. But Jim cut him short.

  "There's no need, old friend. We've just come over to say we, too, aregoing to hit the trail. We're going to hit it together."

  Peter nodded.

  "We're going to get the parson to marry us," Jim went on eagerly, "andthen we're going to hit out for Canada--Edmonton--and start up a bitof a one-eyed ranch."

  Peter stood lost in thought, and Jim grew impatient.

  "Well?" he inquired. "What do you think of it?"

  The other nodded slowly, his eyes twinkling.

  "Bully, but you'll need a wagon to drive you out--when you're gettingmarried," he said. "That's how I was thinking. Guess I'll drive youout in mine, eh?"

  "But you're going at sun-up," cried Eve, in dismay. "We--we can't getmarried so soon."

  "Guess I'll wait over," Peter answered easily. "It just meansoff-loading--and then loading up again. My frying-pan can have anothercleaning."

  "Thanks, old friend," cried Jim, linking his arm in Eve's. "You're agreat feller. You'll see us--married." He squeezed the girl's arm."And then?"

  "And then?"

  Peter looked away at the dying light. His eyes were full of the kindlythought his two friends knew so well.

  "Why, I'll just hit the trail again," he said.

  "Where to?"

  The big man turned his face slowly toward them, and his gentle humorwas largely written in his expressive eyes.

  "Why, Canada, I guess," he said. "Edmonton--it seems to me."