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CHAPTER XVIII
A GUN ROARS
The two men glared at each other, silently, their faces distorted togargoyles in the leaping and uncertain light. Wary, vigilant, tense,they faced each other as might jungle tigers waiting for the bestmoment to attack.
There was a chance for the situation to adjust itself withoutbloodshed. Whaley could not afford to kill and Morse had no desire toforce his hand.
Jessie's fear outran her judgment. She saw the menace of the revolvertrained on her rescuer and thought the gambler was about to fire. Sheleaped for the weapon, and so precipitated what she dreaded.
The gun roared. A bullet flew past Morse and buried itself in a log.Next instant, clinging with both hands to Whaley's wrist, Jessie foundherself being tossed to and fro as the man struggled to free his arm.Flung at a tangent against the wall, she fell at the foot of the couchwhere Fergus slept.
Again the blaze and roar of the revolver filled the room. Morseplunged head down at his enemy, still carrying the log he had used asa battering-ram. It caught the gambler at that point of the stomachknown as the solar plexus. Whaley went down and out of consciousnesslike an ox that has been pole-axed.
Tom picked up the revolver and dropped it into the pocket of his furcoat. He stooped to make sure that his foe was beyond the power ofdoing damage. Then he lifted Jessie from the corner where she layhuddled.
"Hurt?" he asked.
The girl shuddered. "No. Is he--is he killed?"
"Wind knocked out of him. Nothing more."
"He didn't hit you?"
There was the ghost of a smile in his eyes. "No, I hit him."
"He was horrid. I--I--" Again a little shiver ran through her body.She felt very weak at the knees and caught for a moment at the lapelof his coat to steady herself. Neither of them was conscious of thefact that she was in his arms, clinging to him while she won backself-control.
"It's all right now. Don't worry. Lucky I came back to show Blandoinewhich furs to take."
"If you hadn't--" She drew a ragged breath that was half a sob.
Morse loved her the more for the strain of feminine hysteria that madeher for the moment a soft and tender child to be comforted. He hadknown her competent, savage, disdainful, one in whom vital andpassionate life flowed quick. He had never before seen the weakness inher reaching out to strength. That by sheer luck it was _his_ power towhich she clung filled him with deep delight.
He began to discount his joy lest she do it instead. His arm fell awayfrom her waist.
"I 'most wrecked the house," he said with a humorous glance at thedoor. "I don't always bring one o' the walls with me when I come intoa room."
"He bolted the door," she explained rather needlessly. "He wouldn'tlet me out."
"I heard you call," he answered, without much more point.
She glanced at the man lying on the floor. "You don't think he mightbe--" She stopped, unwilling to use the word.
Tom knelt beside him and felt his heart.
"It's beating," he said. And added quickly, "His eyes are open."
It was true. The cold, fishy eyes had flickered open and were takingstock of the situation. The gambler instantly chose his line ofdefense. He spoke, presently.
"What in the devil was bitin' you, Morse? Just because I was jokin'the girl, you come rampagin' in and knock me galley west with a bigclub. I'll not stand for that. Soon as I'm fit to handle myself, youand I'll have a settlement."
"Get up and get out," ordered the younger man.
"When I get good and ready. Don't try to run on me, young fellow. Someother fools have found that dangerous."
Whaley sat up, groaned, and pressed his hands upon the abdomen at thepoint where he had been struck.
The reddish-brown glint in the eyes of Morse advertised the cold rageof the Montanan. He caught the gambler by the collar and pulled him tohis feet.
"Get out, you yellow wolf!" he repeated in a low, savage voice.
The white-faced trader was still wobbly on his feet. He felt bothsore and sick at the pit of his stomach, in no mood for any furtheraltercation with this hard-hitting athlete. But he would not gowithout saving his face.
"I don't know what business you've got to order me out--unless--" Hisgaze included the girl for a moment, and the insult of his leer wasunmistakable.
Morse caught him by the scruff of the neck, ran him out of the room,and flung him down the steps into the road. The gambler tripped on thelong buffalo coat he was wearing and rolled over in the snow. Slowlyhe got to his feet and locked eyes with the other.
Rage almost choked his words. "You'll be sorry for this one o' thesedays, Morse. I'll get you right. Nobody has ever put one over on PokerWhaley and nobody ever will. Don't forget that."
Tom Morse wasted no words. He stood silently on the steps, a splendid,supple figure of menacing power, and watched his foe pass down theroad. There was in him a cruel and passionate desire to take thegambler and break him with his hands, to beat him till he crawled awaya weak and wounded creature fit for a hospital. He clamped his teethhard and fought down the impulse.
Presently he turned and walked slowly back into the house. His facewas still set and his hands clenched. He knew that if Whaley had hurtJessie, he would have killed him with his naked fingers.
"You can't stay here. Where do you want me to take you?" he asked, andhis cold hardness reminded her of the Tom Morse who had led her to thewhip one other night.
She did not know that inside he was a caldron of emotion and that itwas only by freezing himself he could keep down the volcanic eruption.
"I'll go to Susie Lemoine's," she said in a small, obedient voice.
With his hands in his pockets he stood and let he find a fur coat andslip into it. He had a sense of frustration. He wanted to let go ofhimself and tell all that was in his torrid heart. Instead, he encasedhimself in ice and drove her farther from him.
They walked down the road side by side, neither of them speaking. Shetoo was a victim of chaotic feeling. It would be long before she couldforget how he had broken through the door and saved her.
But she could not find the words to tell him so. They parted at thedoor of Lemoine's cabin with a chill "Good-night" that left them bothunhappy and dissatisfied.