by George Gibbs
*CHAPTER XXVI*
*THE CALL OF THE HEART*
Larry caught up with Jeff outside the elevator shaft, where he found himstriding up and down like a caged beast. Jeff entered the car in a dazeand followed Larry blindly across the huge lobby downstairs and out ofdoors to a motor which was waiting for them at the curb. Larry was stillbewildered at the surprising conclusion of their visit and eyed hiscompanion sharply, but Jeff sat with folded arms, looking neither to theright nor left as they whirled through the city streets and out into thehighroad. The hunted look in Jeff's eyes warned Larry not to speak, sohe sat beside his partner patiently and waited.
Suddenly, without moving, Jeff's great hand shot out and clinchedLarry's knee like a vise.
"He--he's my father, Larry," said Jeff hoarsely, "my father--do youunderstand? I didn't want him to know."
Larry put his hand over Jeff's and gripped it hard. He knew what otherpeople in Mesa City knew of Jeff's birth, but no words occurred to him.The information had taken his breath away.
"I didn't want him to know," Jeff went on. "I wanted to wait--to tellhim myself when things had broken right for us. I wanted to win--toshow him I was his master--not to come crawling and licking his bootsfor mercy. I'll not do it now, either, by G--d. He can break me tobits, but he'll never own me--I never was his--I never will be----"
"He hasn't broken us yet, Jeff. He can't keep us out of Pueblo. We'regoing to win, I tell you."
"We've got to win, Larry," groaned Jeff. "We've got to win. Thatconspiracy charge----"
"Mere piffle," said Larry. "Don't worry. They've bought Fritz Weyl.He's not a competent witness. I can prove it."
Jeff sank back again, his gaze on the mountains. "He'd send me to CanonCity--to the penitentiary--if he could--and he's--my father."
Larry bit his lip, but didn't reply, for his mind was working rapidly.He had a perspective on the situation which had been denied to Jeff, andthe vista did not seem unpleasant. He was prepared to fight for Jeff'sinterests and his own to the bitter end, but he was too keen a lawyerand too sound a philosopher not to know the value of compromise, and, inspite of himself, it was his legal mind which grasped the essentials ofJeff's relation to their common enemy. What would be the effect of thisastonishing revelation on the mind of General Bent? He did not darespeak of this to Jeff, who in his present mood could only misinterprethim; but he was still thinking of it when the car drew up at the stepsat Wetherall's big bungalow palace. Gretchen and their hostess met thearrivals at the door, and Jeff followed them in slowly. He wanted to bealone again to think--and here was sanctuary. Gretchen paused at theentrance to the morning room, and, taking Jeff by the arm, opened thedoor, pushed him in quickly, and closed it behind him. And while Jeffwas wondering what it all meant he heard a step beside him, felt thetimid touch of a hand on his sleeve, and found his eyes looking downinto Camilla's.
"Jeff," she was whispering, "they told me you needed me, and so I cameto you. Do you want me?"
He looked at her mistily, for the misfortunes which hung about him haddulled his perceptions. It seemed strange that she should be there, buthe experienced no surprise at seeing her.
"Yes, I want you," he said absently. "Of course I want you." Hefingered the hand on his sleeve and patted it gently, as he would havedone a child's, but she saw with pain that the tragedy of his birth nowovershadowed all other issues. If he was thinking of her at all, it wasof the other Camilla--the Camilla he had known longest--the gingerbreadwoman that she had been. It hurt her, but she knew that it was her ownfault that he could not think otherwise. She took his hand in her ownwarm fingers, and held it closely against her breast.
"Jeff, dear, look at me. I'm not the woman that I used to be. I'm thereal Camilla, now--the Camilla you always hoped I'd be. I'm changed.Something has happened to me. I want you to understand--I'm not agraven image now, Jeff, I'm just--your wife."
He looked at her, bewildered, but in her eyes he saw that what she saidwas true. They were different eyes from the ones he hadknown--softened, darker--and looked up into his own pleadingly, wet withcompassion, the tender, compelling eyes of a woman whose soul isawakened. She released his hand and threw her arms around his neck,lifting her face to his. "Don't you understand, Jeff? I want you. Iwant you. I've never wanted anybody else."
His arms tightened about her, and their lips met. She was tangiblenow--no mere image to be worshipped from afar, but a warm idol of fleshand blood, to be taken into one's heart and enshrined there.
"Camilla, girl. Is it true?"
"Yes," she whispered, "it has always been true--only I didn't know it.I love you, Jeff. I love you--oh, how I love you! Better thanmyself--better than all the world. Do you realize it now?"
He took her head between his hands and held it away so that he mightlook deep into her eyes and be sure. Their lashes dropped once or twiceand hid them, but that made them only the more lovely when they openedagain. For in them he read the whole measure of his happiness and hers.
"Yes, it's true. I know it now. You've never looked at me likethat--never before." He bent her head forward and would have kissedher--as he sometimes used to do--on the forehead--but she would not lethim.
"No, not that kiss--the cold kiss of homage, Jeff. I don't want to bevenerated. You're not to kiss me like that again--ever. Mylips--they're yours, Jeff--my lips ... No one else--no, never ...they're yours."
So he took them, and in their sweetness for a while found forgetfulnessof his bitterness. At last she led him to a big chair by the window,made him sit, and sank on the floor at his feet.
"You're not going back to Kansas?" he asked anxiously.
She smiled. "Not unless you want me to."
He drew her into his arms again. "I'll never want you to. I want youhere--close--close--my girl."
"You must never leave me again, Jeff--I've suffered so."
"I couldn't stand seeing you. I thought you loved----" She put herfingers over his lips and would not let him finish.
"No--not now----don't speak of that, it's all a nightmare. But you mustnever leave me again. I want to be with you always. I want to take myhalf of your troubles."
His head bowed, the grasp of his hands relaxed, and his eyes stared intovacancy.
"My troubles--yes, there are a lot of them. Perhaps you won't care forme so much when I'm down and out, Camilla. I suppose I ought to tellyou. He--my father is going to have me indicted for conspiracy--aboutthe mines. He's going to try to jail me--if he can."
She started up, terror-stricken.
"Oh, he couldn't--even he--couldn't do a thing like that."
"Oh, yes, he could," grimly. "He has bribed Reimer and Fritz Weyl.They swear I tried to murder Max."
"But you didn't, Jeff--tell me you didn't," she said tremulously. "Youknow you never told me what happened, and I've feared--you weredesperate in those days--and lawless."
"I'm desperate and lawless yet," he muttered. "But I'd never try to killa man just for money. We offered Max Reimer a share in the mine--a goodshare--but he wanted to hog it all. I told him he was a drunken fool,and he tried to shoot me. Mulrennan struck him, and knocked him out. Iwouldn't be here now if he hadn't. I don't know why I never told you.I suppose I thought you wouldn't understand. I left Mulrennan trying tobring him around--and went down and bought that lease. That's all."
"Thank God," she crooned. "I've been so afraid. There have been somany stories."
"Lies--all lies--circulated by him. Now he's got Reimer to swear tothem."
She threw her arms around his neck and searched his face anxiously.
"Jeff--he can't make people believe----"
"He wants to ruin me--and he'll do it if he can. There's no telling whatmoney will do. He squeezed Conrad Seemuller and made him a bankrupt.Seemuller drank himself to death. Jimmy Ott blew out his brains. Oh,don't be afraid--I'm not going to do either--I'm not going to be crush
edlike a worm. If he ruins me, he'll pay dear for the privilege. I'lldrag him down with me, and he'll drop farther than I will. I wanted tokeep things quiet--but I won't any longer. I'll tell the world mystory--his story, and let the world judge between us."
He tramped up and down the floor like a madman until Camilla interposedand led him to a divan. He followed her like a child and let her sitbeside him while she questioned him as to what had happened. Jeff hadlooked for sanctuary, and he had found it at last. The other people inthe house did not disturb them, and they sat for a long time alone,exchanging the confidences which had been so long delayed; but they werenone the less sweet on that account. Late in the afternoon Camillaquestioned Jeff again about the happenings of the morning. Rita Cheyne'spart in the situation did not surprise her. She knew that Rita hadheard everything and had decided to continue to play the game with Fatein Jeff's behalf. But she did not tell Jeff so. When he questioned hershe told him what had happened at the Kinney House after he had left.
"Oh, Jeff, I don't know how I could have misjudged you so. Rita openedmy eyes--why she chose to do it, I don't know. She's a strange woman--Ican't quite make her out even now. She's half angel, half vixen, butI'll never forget her--never!" Camilla put her hand over Jeff'ssuddenly. "That money--Jeff--you must pay her back that money--if youhave to sell the mine."
"I can't sell the mine--not now. It would clean me out."
"I don't care," she pleaded. "I don't want money. It has broughtnothing but unhappiness to either of us. I want to begin all overagain. I've learned my lesson. I look back to the old days and wonderwhat I could have been dreaming of. I've seen all I want of the world.Happiness belongs in the heart--no amount of money can buy it a placethere. I want to be poor again--with you. Give him--give General Bentwhat he wants, Jeff--that will satisfy him, won't it? Please, Jeff, formy sake! Sell out the smelter and the mine----"
"Never!" Jeff's jaw set, and he rose, putting her aside almost roughly.
"I'll never give them up while I've an ounce of blood to fight!"
His tongue faltered and was silent. Camilla followed his startled gazethrough the open window at an automobile, from the tonneau of which aman hurriedly descended.
"What can it mean?" Jeff was asking as though to himself. "Cort Bent!What does he want?"
"It's very curious," Camilla said slowly. "To see you----"
When Bent came into the room a moment later they were both aware of theimminence of important revelations. Camilla had not seen him for twomonths, and she was conscious of a slight sense of shock at hisappearance. Jeff, too, noted that he was very pale and that in his eyesthere hung a shadow of the misfortune that had marked them all.
At the door Cortland turned to Mrs. Berkely who had met him in the hall.
"If you don't mind, Gretchen, I'd like to speak to him alone." And,when Camilla would have gone, "No, Camilla, it concerns you, too."While they wondered what was coming he walked past Camilla and put ahand on Jeff's shoulder, the lines in his face softening gently.
"They've told me, Jeff. I know. I've come to offer you my hand." And,as Jeff still stared at him uncertainly, "You won't refuse it, willyou!"
There was a nobility in the simple gesture, a depth of meaning in thequiet tones of his voice. Camilla alone knew what those few words werecosting him, and she watched Jeff, who was standing as though he hadbeen turned to stone, his head bent forward upon his breast, hisdeep-set eyes peering under his brows as General Bent's had often done.His eyes found Cortland's at last, searching them keenly, but he foundin them only a small bright flame of fellowship among the embers ofregret. Jeff's fingers twitched a little, then his hand came forwardimpulsively, and the two men clasped hands.
"I'm sorry, Jeff--I am--from the bottom of my heart. I want you tounderstand."
"I do," said Jeff, with difficulty. "I didn't want you to know----"
"I'm glad. I think it's better so."
He paused a moment before going on. "I want--I want you and Camilla togo right back with me. Can you? That's what I came to ask. Father isill."
"Ill?" stammered Jeff.
"A stroke of apoplexy--the sudden shock of discovering all this." Jeffand Camilla started forward with one impulse of horror. "Rita and AuntCaroline were with him, and Rita had told him the truth--the doctors arethere--he has recovered consciousness, but his left side is paralyzed,completely paralyzed."
Jeff sank heavily in a chair and buried his face in his hands.
"What do the doctors say?" asked Camilla anxiously.
"That he's very sick--that's all. Nobody can tell. I've wired Chicagofor a specialist. We can only wait and hope. It's pretty desperate--Iknow that. He's an old man--and he's grown older lately."
Cort stopped speaking and walked to the window, while Camilla watchedhim pityingly. He wasn't like the old Cort she used to know, and yetthere was something inexpressively appealing in his gentleness whichreminded her of the moods in him she had liked the best. She glanced atJeff. His head was still buried in his hands, and he had not moved.But Camilla knew that this startling revelation was causing arearrangement of all Jeff's ideas. In that moment she prayed thatJeff's bitterness might be sweetened--that the tragedy which hadsuddenly stalked among them might soften his heart to pity for the oldman who was his father and his enemy.
Cortland turned and spoke with an effort.
"Will you go back with me, Jeff? When he first recovered consciousnesshe spoke your name. He has been asking for you ever since. Hewants----"
Jeff's eyes peered above his trembling fingers.
"He asked--for me?" he said hoarsely.
"Yes--he wants to see you."
Jeff's head sank into his hands again.
"He wants--to see _me_? I can't--seem to realize----"
"It's true--he asked me to bring you."
There was a long period of silence, during which Jeff's long, bonyfingers clasped and unclasped back of his head as he struggled withhimself. "I can't," he groaned at last. "I can't. It has been toolong--too much." He straightened in disorder and went on wildly: "Why,he has dogged my steps for months--used all his genius and cunning to doaway with me--tried to rid himself of me as he did years ago--and evenhired men to swear my liberty away." His head dropped into his handsagain and he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "No, I can't,Cort. I can't. It's too much to ask--too much."
Cortland stood in the middle of the floor, his arms folded, head bent,waiting for the storm to pass, his own pain engulfed in the greater painof the man before him. He did not try to answer Jeff, for there was noanswer to be made. It was not a moment for words, and he knew he had noright even to petition. It was a matter for Jeff's heart alone--a heartso long embittered that even if it refused this charity, Cortland couldnot find it in his own heart to condemn.
With a glance at Cortland, Camilla went over to Jeff and laid herfingers lightly on his shoulder.
"Jeff," she said with gentle firmness, "you must go--to your father."But, as he did not move, she went on. "You forget--he did not know.Perhaps if he had known he would have tried to make atonement before.Do you realize what it means for a man like General Bent to make such arequest at such a time? You can't refuse, Jeff. You can't."
Jeff moved his head and stared for a long time at the fireplace, hisfingers clenched on the chair arms, turning at last to Cortland.
"Do you--do you think he'll die?" he asked. "What do they say?"
"His heart is bad," said Cort gravely. "I don't know--a man of father'syears seldom recovers from a thing like that----"
But it was Camilla who interposed. She stepped between the two men andtook Jeff Ly the arm. "Cort can't go back without you, Jeff," she saidpassionately. "Don't you see that? He can't. You've got to go. Ifyour father died to-night you'd never forgive yourself. He may havedone you a wrong, but God knows he's trying to right it now. You've gotto let him." Cortland watched them a moment, then suddenly straightenedand gla
nced at his watch.
"I can't stay here any longer," he said. "I've got to go back to him.There is much to be done, and I'm the only one to do it. This is mylast plea--not that of a dying man's son for his father, but of abrother to a brother for the father of both. Come back with me--Jeff.Not for his sake--but for your own. It is your own blood that iscalling you--pitifully--you can't refuse."
Jeff struggled heavily to his feet and passed his hands across his eyes,and then, with a sudden sharp intake of his breath, he turned toCortland, his lips trembling.
"I'll go," he said hoarsely. "If he wants me, I'll go, Cort. Somethingis drawing me--something inside of me that awoke when you told me whathad happened. I've been fighting against it, the habit of thirty yearswas fighting it, but I've got to go. I'd be cursed if I didn't. You'resure he really wants me, Cort?"