CHAPTER VII
A PAGE FROM THE PAST
Darkness had fallen when Calumet returned to the Lazy Y. He had passedthe day riding over the familiar ranges, returning to almost forgottenspots, reviving the life of his youth and finding the memories irksome.He was in no pleasant frame of mind when he rode in, and he disdainedthe use of the corral or the stable, staking his horse out in thepasture, remembering the scant supply of grain in the bin in thestable, and telling himself that "them two skates"--referring to thehorses he had seen in the corral--"need it worse than Blackleg," hisown pony.
After staking Blackleg out, he took the saddle and bridle from theanimal and stalked toward the ranchhouse. A light burned on thekitchen table. He saw it from a distance and resisted an impulse toenter the house from the kitchen, walking, instead, around to thefront, where he found the door to the office unbarred. He threw thesaddle into a corner, lighted the candle that still stood on the deskwhere he had placed it the night before, and stood for a long time inits glare, examining the ragged gashes on his arm. Twice during theday he had washed the wounds with water secured from the river, bindingthe arm with a handkerchief; but he noted with a scowl that the arm wasswollen and the wound inflamed. He finally rewound the bandage, tieingthe ends securely. Then he stood erect beside the desk, listening andundecided.
No sound reached his ears. The Claytons, he assured himself, must haveretired.
He walked over to the sofa and sat upon it, frowning. He was hungry,having been without food since morning, and he found himself wonderingif he might not find food in the kitchen. Obeying an impulse, he gotup from the sofa and went to the door through which Betty had enteredthe night before, noting that it was still barred as he had left itthat morning. He carefully removed the fastenings and swung the dooropen, intending to go into the kitchen. He halted on the threshold,however, for beside a table in the dining room, in the feeble glare ofa light that stood at her elbow, sat Betty, reading a book.
She looked up as the door opened, betraying no surprise, smilingmildly, and speaking as she might have spoken had she been addressing afriend.
"Won't you come in?"
She placed the book down, sticking a piece of paper between the leavesto mark her place, and stood up.
"I have been waiting for you. I heard you come in. I expected you forsupper, and when you didn't come I saved yours. If you will come outinto the kitchen I will get it for you."
Calumet did not move. Had Betty shown the slightest dismay orperturbation at sight of him he would not have hesitated an instant inwalking past her to get the food which she had said was in the kitchen.But her easy unconcern, her cool assumption of proprietorship, arousedin him that obstinacy which the revelation of her power over him hadbrought into being. He did not purpose to allow her to lead him toanything.
"I don't reckon I'll grub," he said.
"Then of course you have been to Lazette," she returned. "You haddinner there."
"Look here," he said truculently; "does it make any difference to youwhere I've been or what I've done?"
"Perhaps it really doesn't make any difference," she answered calmly;"but of course I am interested. I don't want you to starve."
His face expressed disgust. "Holy smoke!" he said; "I reckon I ain'tman enough to take care of myself!"
"I don't think that is the question. Can't we get at it in the properspirit? You belong here; you have a right to be here. And I am herebecause your father wanted me to stay. I want you to feel that you areat home, and I don't want to be continually quarreling with you. Bemean and stubborn if you want to--I suppose you can't help that. Butso long as conditions are as they are, let us try to make the best ofthem. Even if you don't like me, even if you resent my presence here,you can at least act more like a human being and less like a wild man.Why," she continued, with a dry laugh, "just now you spoke of being aman, and this morning after you killed Lonesome you acted like a big,over-grown boy. You had your arm hurt and refused to allow me to dressit. Did you think I wanted to poison you?"
"What I thought this morning is my business," returned Calumet gruffly.Betty's voice had been quietly conversational, but it had carried asubtle sting with its direct mockery, and Calumet felt again as he hadfelt the night before, like an unruly scholar being rebuked by histeacher. Last night, though, the situation had been a novel one; nowthe thought that she was laughing at him, taunting him, filled him withrage.
"Mebbe you'll be interested in knowin' what I think right now," hesaid. "It's this: you've got a bad case of swelled head. You're oneof them kind of female critters which want to run things their own way.You're--"
Her laugh interrupted him. "We won't argue that again, if you please.If you remember, you had something to say on that subject last night,and I want you to know that I haven't the slightest desire to hear youropinion of me. Won't you sit down?" She invited again, motioning to achair beside the table, opposite hers. "If you absolutely refuse toeat, I presume there is no help for it, though even if you had dinnerin Lazette you must be hungry now, for a ride of twenty miles is astrict guarantee of appetite. Please sit down. There is something Iwant to give you, something your father left for you. He told me tohave you read it as soon as you came."
She stood motionless until Calumet left the door and seated himself inthe chair beside the table, and then she went out of the room; he couldhear her steps on the stairs. She returned quickly and laid a bulkyenvelope on the table beside him.
"Here it is," she said.
As Calumet took up the envelope and tore it open she dropped into theother chair, took up her book, opened it, and settled herself to read.Calumet watched her covertly for a moment, and then gave his attentionto the contents of the envelope.
There were a number of sheets of paper on which Calumet recognized hisfather's handwriting.
"MY SON:--Feeling that I am about to die, it is my desire to do what Ican toward setting things right between us. Betty Clayton will tellyou that I have repented of my treatment of you, but she cannot tellyou how deep is the realization of the injury I have done you throughmy inhuman attitude toward you. I fear that I have ruined yourcharacter and that it may be too late to save you from those passionswhich, if not checked, will spoil your life.
"I know that children sometimes inherit the evil that has abided withtheir parents, and I am certain that you have inherited mine, becausewhile you stayed at home I saw many evidences of it, aye, I used todelight in its manifestation. Toward the end of your stay at home Igrew to hate you. But it was because of that woman. If ever there wasan evil spirit in the guise of a human being, it was she. She--well,you will learn more of her later.
"I am going to try at this late day to repair the damage I did you. Ihave come to the conclusion that the surest way to do this is to forceyou to give me in death that respect and veneration which you refusedme while I lived. You see that, in spite of my boasted repentance, Istill have left a spark of satanic irony, and I do not expect you tobelieve me when I tell you that I have planned this for your own good.But it seems to me that if you can exhibit respect for the one who isdirectly responsible for your cursed passions you will be able togovern them on all occasions. That is my conviction, and if you do notagree with me there is no hope for you.
"Betty Clayton will tell you the conditions, and she will be yourjudge. I believe in Betty, and if you do not see that she is atrue-blue girl you are more of a fool than I think you are."
At this point Calumet glanced sidelong at Betty, but she seemedengrossed in her book, and he resumed reading.
"That is all I have to say on that subject. You will have to look toBetty for additions. By this time, if she has carried out my wishes,she has told you what you may expect. I have told her the story whichI am going to tell you, and I am certain that when you have finished ityou will see that I am not entirely to blame. You will see, too, whathavoc Tom Taggart has wrought in my life; why he has tried many timesto kill me
. Calumet, beware of the Taggarts! For the last five yearsthey have been a constant menace to me; I have been forced to be on myguard against them day and night. They have hounded me, induced my mento betray me. In five years I have not slept soundly because of them.But I have foiled them. I am dying now, and that which they seek willbe hidden until you fulfill the conditions which I impose on you. Iknow you are coming home--I can feel it--and I know that when you readwhat is to follow you will be eager to square my account with TomTaggart.
"Before going any further, before you read my story, I want you to knowthat the cursed virago whom you saw buried in the cottonwood was notyour real mother. Your mother died giving you birth, and her body liesin a quiet spot beside the Rio Pecos, at Twin Pine crossing, about tenmiles north of the Texas border. God rest her."
Again Calumet glanced at Betty. She was reading, apparentlyunconscious of him, and without disturbing her Calumet laid down thefinished page and took up another.
The Boss of the Lazy Y Page 7