The Boss of the Lazy Y

by Charles Alden Seltzer

  CHAPTER XXI

  HIS FATHER'S FRIEND

  Betty did not see Calumet again that day, and only at mealtime on theday following. He had nothing to say to her at these times, though itwas plain from the expression on his face when she covertly looked athim that he was thinking deeply. She hoped this were true; it was agood sign. On the morning of the third day he saddled the black horseand rode away, telling Bob, who happened to be near him when hedeparted, that he was going to Lazette.

  It was fully two hours after supper when he returned. Malcolm, Dade,and Bob had gone to bed. In the kitchen, sitting beside the table, onwhich was a spotlessly clean tablecloth, with dishes set for one--shehad saved Calumet's supper, and it was steaming in the warming-closetof the stove--Betty sat. She was mending Bob's stockings, and thinkingof her life during the past few months--and Calumet. And when sheheard the black come into the ranchhouse yard--she knew the black'sgait already--she trembled a little, put aside her mending, and went tothe window.

  The moon threw a white light in the yard, and she saw Calumet dismount.When he did not turn the black into the corral, hitching him, instead,to one of the rails, without even removing the saddle, she suspectedthat something unusual had happened.

  She was certain of it when she heard Calumet cross the porch with arapid step, and if in her certainty there had been the slightest doubt,it disappeared when he opened the kitchen door.

  He looked tired; he had evidently ridden hard, for the alkali dust wasthick on his clothing; he was breathing fast, his eyes were burningwith some deep emotion, his lips were grim and hard.

  He closed the door and stood with his back against it, looking at her.Something had wrought a wonderful change in him. He was not theCalumet she had known--brutal, vicious, domineering, sneering; thoughhe was laboring under some great excitement, suppressing it, so that toan eye less keen than hers it might have seemed that he had beenundergoing some great physical exertion and was just recovering fromit. It seemed to her that he had found himself; that that regenerationfor which she had hoped had come--had taken place between the time hehad left that morning and now.

  She did not know that it had been a mighty struggle of three days'duration; that the transformation had been a slow, tortuous thing tohim. She only knew that a great change had come over him; that, inspite of the evident strain which was upon him, there was somethinggentle, respectful, considerate, in his face, back of Its exteriorhardness--a slumbering, triumphant something that made an instantappeal to her, lighting her eyes, coloring her face, making her heartbeat with an unaccountable gladness.

  "Oh," she said; "what has happened to you?"

  "Nothin'," he answered, with a grave smile. "That is, nothin'--yet.Except that I've found out what a fool I've been. But I've found itout too late."

  "No," she said, reaching the quick conclusion that he meant it was toolate for him to complete his reformation; "it is never too late."

  "I think I know what you mean," he answered. "But you've got it wrong.It's somethin' else. I've got to get out of here--got to hit thebreeze out of the country. The sheriff is after me."

  She took a step backward. "What for?" she asked breathlessly.

  "For killin' Al Sharp."

  "Al Sharp!" she exclaimed, staring at him in amazement. "Why, you toldme that an Indian named Telza killed him!"

  "That's what Sharp told me. The Taggarts claim I done it. They'veswore out a warrant. I got wind of it an' I'm gettin' out. There's nouse tryin' to fight the law in a case like this."

  "But you didn't kill him!" she cried, stiffening defiantly. "You saidyou didn't, and I know you wouldn't lie. They can't prove that you didit!"

  He laughed. "You're the only one that would believe me. Do you reckonI could prove that I didn't do it? There's two against one. Theevidence is against me. The Taggarts found me in the clearing withSharp. I had the knife. No one else was around. I buried Sharp. TheTaggarts will swear against me. Where's my chance?"

  She was silent, and he laughed again. "They've got me, I reckon--theTaggarts have. I fancied I was secure. I didn't think they'd try topull off anything like this. Shows how much dependence a man can putin anything. They don't look like they had sense enough to think ofsuch a thing."

  He stepped away from the door and went to the table, looking down atthe dishes she had set out for him, then at her, with a regretful smilewhich brought a quick pang to her.

  "Shucks," he said, more to himself than to her; "if this had happenedthree months ago I'd have been plumb amused, an' I'd have had a heap offun with somebody before it could be got over with. Somehow, it don'tseem to be so damned funny now.

  "It's your fault, too," he went on, regarding her with a direct, levelgaze. "Not that you got me into this mix-up, you understand--you'renot to blame for a thing--but it's your fault that it don't seem funnyto me. You've made me see things different."

  "I am so sorry," she said, standing pale and rigid before him.

  "Sorry that I'm seein' things different?" he said. "No?" at her quick,reproachful negative. "Well, then, sorry that this had to happen.Well, I'm sorry, too. You see," he added, the color reaching his face,"it struck me while I was ridin' over here that I wasn't goin' to beexactly tickled over leavin'. It's been seemin' like home to mefor--well, for a longer time than I would have admitted three days ago,when I had that talk with you. Or, rather," he corrected, with asmile, "when you had that talk with me. There's a difference, ain'tthere? Anyways, there's a lot of things that I wouldn't have admittedthree days ago. But I've got sense now--I've got a new viewpoint. An'somehow, what I'm goin' to tell you don't seem to come hard. Becauseit's the truth, I reckon. I've knowed it right along, but kept holdin'it back.

  "Dade had me sized up right. He said I was a false alarm; that I'dbeen thinkin' of myself too much; that I'd forgot that there was otherpeople in the world. He was right; I'd forgot that other people hadfeelings. But if he hadn't told me that them was your views I'd havesalivated him. But I couldn't blame him for repeatin' things you'dsaid, because about that time I'd begun to do some thinkin' myself.

  "In the first place, I found that I wasn't a whole lot proud of myselffor guzzlin' your grandad, but I'd made a mistake an' I wasn't goin' togive you a chance to crow over me. I expect there's a lot of people dothat, but they're on the wrong trail--it don't bring no peace to aman's mind. Then, I thought you was like all the rest of the women I'dknown, an' when I found out that you wasn't, I thought you had theswelled head an' I figgered to take you down a peg. When I couldn't dothat it made me sore. It made me feel some cheap when you showed meyou trusted me, with me treatin' you like I did; but if it's anysatisfaction to you, I'm tellin' you that all the time I was treatin'you mean I felt like kickin' myself.

  "I reckon that's all. Don't get the idea that I'm doin' any mushin'.It's just the plain truth, an' I've had to tell you. That's why I cameover here--I wanted to square things with you before I leave. I reckonif I'd stay here you'd never know how I feel about it."

  She was staring at the floor, her face crimson, an emotion of deepgratitude and satisfaction filling her, though mingled with it was aqueer sensation of regret. Her judgment of him had been vindicated;she had known all along that this moment would come, but, now that ithad come, it was not as she had pictured it--there was discord wherethere should be harmony; something was lacking to make the situationperfect--he was going away.

  She stood nervously tapping the floor with the toe of her shoe, hardlyhearing his last words, almost forgetting that he was in the room untilshe saw his hand extended toward her. Then she looked up at him.There was a grave smile on his face.

  "I reckon you'll shake hands with me," he said, "just to show that youain't holdin' much against me. Well, that right," he said when shehesitated; "I don't deserve it."

  Her hand went out; he looked at it, with a start, and then seized itquickly in both of his, squeezed it hard, his eyes aflame. He droppedit as quickly, a
nd turned to the door, saying: "You're a brave littlegirl."

  She stood silent until his hands were on the fastenings of the door.

  "Wait!" she said. She attempted to smile, but some emotion stiffenedher lips, stifling it. "You haven't had your supper," she said; "won'tyou eat if I get it ready?"

  "No time," he said. "The law don't advertise its movements, as a usualthing, an' Toban's liable to be here any minute. An'," he added, aglint of the old hardness in his eyes, "I ain't lettin' him take me.It's only twenty miles to the line, an' the way I'm intendin' to travelI'll be over it before Toban can ketch me. I don't want him to ketchme--he was a friend of my dad's, an' puttin' him out of businesswouldn't help me none."

  "Will you be safe, then?" she asked fearfully.

  "I reckon. But I won't be stoppin' at the line. I'm through here;there's nothin' here to hold me. I reckon I'll never come back thisway. Shucks!" he added, leaving the door and coming back a little wayinto the room; "I expect I'm excited. I come near forgettin'. It'sabout the idol an' the money an' the ranch. I don't want any of them.They're yours. You've earned them an' you deserve them. Go to LasVegas an' petition the court to turn the property over to you; tell thejudge I flunked on the specifications."

  "I don't want your property," she said in a strange voice.

  "You've got to take it," he returned, with a quick look at her."Here"--he drew a piece of paper and a short pencil from an insidepocket of his vest, and, walking to the table, wrote quickly, givingher the paper.

  "I herewith renounce all claim to my father's property," it read; "Irefuse the conditions of the will."

  It was signed with his name. While he stood watching her, she tore thepaper to small bits, scattering them on the floor.

  "I think," she said, regarding him fixedly, "that you are not exactlychivalrous in leaving me this way; that you are more concerned overyour own safety than over mine. What do you suppose will happen whenthe Taggarts discover that you have gone and that I am here alone?"

  His eyes glinted with hatred. "The Taggarts," he laughed. "Did youthink I was going to let them off so easy? I'm charged with onemurder, ain't I? Well, after tonight there won't be any Taggarts tobother anybody."

  "You mean to--" Her eyes widened with horror.

  "I reckon," he said. "Did you think I was runnin' away withoutsquarin' things with them?" There was a threat of death in his coldlaugh.

  While she stood with clenched hands, evidently moved by the threat inhis manner and words, he said "So-long," shortly, and swung the dooropen.

  She followed three or four steps, again calling upon him to "wait." Heturned in the doorway and went slowly back to her. She was nervous,breathless, and he looked wonderingly at her.

  "Wait just a minute," she said; "I have something to give you."

  She darted into the sitting-room; he could hear her running up thestairs. She was gone a long time, so long a time that he grewimpatient and paced the floor with long, hasty strides. He was certainthat it was fully five minutes before she reappeared, and then hermanner was more nervous than ever.

  "You act," he said suspiciously, "as though you wanted to keep me here."

  "No, no," she denied breathlessly, her eyes bright and her cheeksaflame. "How can you think that? I have brought you some money; youwill need it." She had a leather bag in her hands, and she seized itby the bottom and turned out its contents--a score or more oftwenty-dollar gold pieces.

  "Take them," she said as he hesitated. And, not waiting for him toact, she began to gather them up. She was nervous, though, and droppedmany of them several times, so that he felt that time would have beengained if she had not touched them. He returned them to the bag, withher help, and placed the bag in a pocket of his trousers. Then oncemore he said good-by to her.

  This time, however, she stood between him and the door, and when hetried to step around her she changed her position so as to be always infront of him.

  "Tell me where you are going?" she said.

  "What do you want to know for?" he demanded.

  "Just because," she said; "because I want to know."

  His eyes lighted with a deep fire as he looked at her. She was veryclose to him; he felt her warm breath; saw her bosom heave rapidly, anda strange intoxication seized him.

  "Shall I tell you?" he said, with sudden hoarseness, as though askinghimself the question. He grasped her by the shoulders and lookedclosely at her, his eyes boring, probing, as though searching for someevidence of duplicity in hers. For an instant his gaze held. Then helaughed, softly, self-accusingly.

  "I thought you was stringin' me--just for a minute," he said. "Butyou're true blue, an' I'll tell you. I'm goin' first to the Arrow tohand the Taggarts their pass-out checks. Then I'm hittin' the breezeto Durango. If you ever want me, send for me there, an' I'll come backto you, sheriff or no sheriff."

  She put out a hand to detain him, but he seized it and pressed it toher side, the other with it. Then his arms went around her shoulders,she was crushed against him, and his lips met hers.

  Then she was suddenly released, and he was at the door.

  "Good-by," he said as he stood in the opening, the glare of light fromthe lamp showing his face, pale, the eyes illumined with a fire thatshe had never seen in them; "I'm sorry it has to end this way--I washopin' for somethin' different. You've made me almost a man."

  Then the door closed and he was gone. She stood by the table for a fewminutes, holding tightly to it for support, her eyes wide fromexcitement.

  "Oh," she said, "if I could only have kept him here a few minuteslonger!"

  She walked to the door and stood in the opening, shading her eyes withher hands. He had not been gone long, but already he was riding theriver trail; she saw him outlined in the moonlight, leaning a littleforward in the saddle, the black running with a long, swift, surestride. She watched them until a bend in the trail shut them fromview, and then with a sob she bowed her head in her arms.