Collected Works of Zane Grey

by Zane Grey

  “Hello, Linc,” said Kit. “I thought I would run up a few minutes, and I finally prevailed on Lucy to come with me.”

  “How do you do, Lucy?” said Lincoln.

  “Good evening,” replied Lucy composedly. She walked up to the couch and gazed down upon him. She was quite pale in the dim light and her eyes shone darkly. “And how are you?”

  “Just fine — for a cripple,” replied Lincoln. “It is very good of you to come and see me.”

  At that juncture a waiter appeared bearing a white-covered tray which he deposited upon a little table by Bradway’s couch.

  “Bring it in, boy,” called Kit to someone outside. A boy entered, carrying a large lamp. “Lincoln, I brought something to light up this dismal place.” In a moment the place changed from a dingy cell to a warm and comfortable room. “There, isn’t that cheerful? And here are newspapers, and a couple of books.”

  “Thanks,” replied Lincoln. “You’re awfully good to me — but I’m not going to stay in here forever.”

  “No, of course not,” said Kit. “But you had better start in on your supper before it gets cold. Sheriff, will you take Lucy into your office while I talk over some business with Mr. Bradway?”

  Sitting up, Linc caught Lucy’s eyes again and he made a slight motion with his head, which he hoped she would interpret correctly. Then he said: “You talk, Kit, while I eat.”

  She waited until the sheriff had ushered Lucy out of the room and into his office across the corridor. Lincoln noticed that the girl was not as radiant as she had been when she came in a few moments before. She was quiet and tense, and her eyes were dark and sad.

  “You’ll have to do most of the talking, cowboy. I want to know some mighty important things.”

  “What about?” he asked. He was not perturbed; he held the advantage over Kit Bandon in every way, except in regard to Lucy. Kit pulled a chair close to where Linc now was sitting at the table.

  “Lincoln, I just ran plumb into Mel Thatcher and that ex- cowboy Vince,” she announced. “Do you know them?”

  “I met Thatcher in South Pass and I’m quite well acquainted with Vince.”

  “Could they by any chance be here to see you?”

  “They could, and they are,” replied the Nebraskan coolly.

  “I guessed it then,” retorted Kit with a snap of her fingers. “What is their relation to you?”

  “Well, I’d say Vince had the makings of a real pard. According to him, Thatcher will stack up about the same way.”

  “How did this come about?” queried Kit.

  “I ran into Vince in South Pass. He was down on his luck, broke and hungry, and I cottoned to him, that’s all. According to Vince, this cowboy, Thatcher, is pretty bad off too. Lee fired him. He can’t get anybody to give him a job on the range, and naturally he was pretty desperate. Vince brought him over here to see if I wouldn’t have him throw in with us.”

  “Kind of a Good Samaritan, eh?” inquired Kit with a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

  “Kit, maybe it’s a weakness, but I am pretty liable to take the part of the underdog, especially when he happens to be somebody I’m fond of. I like Thatcher and I think a heap of Vince.”

  “What do you aim to do with them?”

  “Well, I’ve got plenty of money, as you know, and I’ll let them trail around with me for a while.”

  Kit half rose from her chair. “You can’t do that,” she said, her voice rising.

  “Beg pardon?” inquired Bradway, politely.

  “I said you can’t do that,” repeated Kit.

  “And why not?”

  “Because I won’t stand for it.”

  Linc laughed. “Excuse me, lady, but what I do, what friends I choose to make, and what cowboys I put on my payroll have nothing at all to do with you.”

  “Lincoln!” she cried incredulously. He quickly perceived that she had completely overestimated her power over him.

  “Kit, you have been flattering enough to express your interest in me and you’ve certainly been very kind to me since I got shot up. I’m grateful, of course, but you must know that I can’t take orders from you.”

  She turned perfectly white, her eyes turned like glittering daggers upon him. The cowboy could see that it was with great difficulty that she was retaining her composure. Quick as a panther she arose and the sound she uttered was like a hiss. For a moment she stood looking down at Linc, her dark eyes mere slits. Then she walked to the window, her face twisted and tense.

  He calmly went on eating his supper, but inwardly he was completely alert. In a few moments she came back to him again, her venomous mood gone as suddenly as it had seized her.

  “Linc, listen. Both Thatcher and Vince are bitter enemies of mine. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” There was a note of appeal in her voice.

  “I don’t believe that,” he retorted. “At least they haven’t confided in me. But if it’s true — why should two cowpokes be Kit Bandon’s enemies?”

  “I liked them. I felt sentimental about them as I have about so many cowboys, but when they began getting jealous and insistent I soon tired of them.”

  “Reason enough,” said Lincoln shortly.

  “Reason?” she queried. “For what?”

  “Why, it’s a woman’s privilege to shed herself of a man when she is tired of him. Are you sure that you didn’t overdo your — let’s say sentimental interest in them?”

  It was evident that she was unused to this kind of indifference from any man. She controlled her anger with an effort.

  “Lincoln, I have made some great plans — which involve you.”

  “You are very good, but don’t you think you should consult me before making plans which involve me?”

  “I want to sell out my cattle and my ranch and move down the Sweetwater into new country.... I’m going to Salt Lake tomorrow to see my banker and make a deal for my property. I will have a pretty big stake when the deal is settled. Will you leave this part of Wyoming with me?”

  “In what capacity?” asked Lincoln curiously.

  “Partner.”

  “Kit, I couldn’t make a deal like that with you.”

  “Why not?” she flashed quickly.

  “Well, there are several good reasons. I still have some unfinished business to settle around South Pass, and I would not let down Thatcher and Vince. I don’t like the way things are shaping up in the Sweetwater Valley, and I would not want to share in any way with your other partner, Emery.”

  “I’ll get rid of Emery,” she said shortly.

  “Well, that’s something — but still...”

  “What do you mean by things shaping up in the valley?” she interrupted, sharply.

  “Thatcher and Vince brought me some very disquieting news. Looks like a cowboy and cattleman war is brewing over along the Sweetwater.”

  “I’ve seen that coming for a long while,” she replied, without losing her composure. “That’s one reason why I want to get out before it comes to a head. But those cattlemen are slow to act.... Too many of them distrust each other. I question if they would hold together if it came to a showdown.”

  “I don’t share that opinion, Kit,” replied Lincoln, coldly. “I am anxious to go back to South Pass and find out for myself. I think there have been some developments in the last few days. It might be of more interest to you than you think.”

  “What might be?” asked Kit.

  “Why, just what these cattlemen are up to over there. From what I gather, they don’t like you. Some of them wanted to marry you and got scorned for their pains. And there are some other reasons which you probably know better than I do. Lee, Hargrove, and for all I know, others might share a good deal of animosity toward you.”

  “That might well be,” replied Kit, thoughtfully. “In fact I know it’s true. But what can they do to me?” Her voice expressed pride, arrogance, and conviction. “We’ll go back home the day after I return from Salt Lake. I’ll say good-by.”

 
; Linc arose from the table. “Kit, I don’t promise that I’ll be here when you return.” He did not mean this remark, but he was curious to see what her reaction to it would be. She appeared startled; her restraint broke and she came close to him manifestly agitated, and at that moment more appealing to him than she ever had been. Suddenly she threw her arms about him and kissed him passionately.

  “Lincoln, I’m crushed by your indifference. Perhaps I’ve been too rash in revealing to you how I feel. I’ve always had my way. But surely... well, never mind about that, now. Just kiss me good-by.”

  The Nebraskan forgot his promise to Vince; it was as if he were being carried along by an irresistible current. Kit’s face took on a rosy flush. She laughed happily and broke from him and ran toward the door. Linc heard her gaily call to the sheriff and Lucy. Gloomily he wondered if they could leave without the girl saying good-by. When they had gone without a word of farewell, he returned to his supper minus his appetite. From the window he watched the sheriff and Kit quit the hotel, with Lucy behind them. His heart sank; would not Lucy even turn back to wave her hand to him? But yes, she had turned to look for him through the bars of the window. Warily, even timidly, she stopped to touch her hand to her lips in a token kiss. Her action brought comfort to the prisoner. But it also brought shame for his weakness of a few moments before.

  CHAPTER X

  LUCY BANDON’S SHY but eloquent gesture held Lincoln at the window for some time. Finally he returned to his big chair, happiness for the first time crowding out the somberness of his former mood. Perhaps it was not too much for him to hope for a happy culmination of their love.

  Next morning he awoke at dawn. While dressing he noticed the sunrise flush upon the snow of the Utah peaks. From the other window in the distance he could see the familiar features of the Wyoming foothills, glorious in the clear morning light. The morning was fresh and cold. Through the rarefied atmosphere the slopes and swales and hills and ranges appeared magnified. Beyond Rock Springs the purple slopes of sage spread for miles and miles, gently rising, spotted with clumps of aspen and pine with here and there an outcropping of gray rocks. They led up to where thickets and patches of timber showed dark against the rangeland. Beyond began the open country of capes and rounded escarpments growing steeper and higher and dimmer as distance augmented the effect of loneliness and solitude so characteristic of the Wyoming foothills. Valleys cut through these foothills, but they were in deep shadow. At an angle a little north of east, like a great backdrop, reared the Wind River Mountains, magnificently high and clear, peaks and notches burning with a snow-fired glory. This was the southerly end of the range. Somewhere down under that mighty upheaval of the earth’s crust lay the little mining hamlet of South Pass; over to the left, the unseen valley led up to the source of the Sweetwater in the uplands. He could well understand Lucy’s fondness for her favorite wilderness at the head of the little river. At this hour of the morning the brilliant light and varied color were almost unbelievably beautiful.

  With a rush Linc felt his love and appreciation of this cleansing wilderness returning. He had come to avenge a crime and had found his true mate here in these hills. He knew that this love of Wyoming was permanent and ineradicable and that somewhere under the shadow of these peaks he would make his home.

  Haught came bustling in, cheery and friendly.

  “Sheriff, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was giving up your hospitable quarters in a day or two,” Lincoln said. “Your jailhouse wasn’t a jail at all. Most of the jails I’ve been locked up in were dirty and lousy, and the jailer often didn’t bother to feed his prisoners. In fact, it’s really worthwhile getting arrested over here in Rock Springs.... Perhaps when I come back I’ll do something that will set you after me again.”

  “Don’t make such rash boasts, son. I’m glad you liked it here. As long as I’m sheriff this is goin’ to be the cosiest little jail in the West. But as a matter of fact I have another cabin where I lock up hombres thet are really tough.”

  After a brief conversation Lincoln’s breakfast arrived, followed soon after by Vince and Thatcher. The two cowboys were clad in clean jeans and showed the good effects of sleep and rest. Sheriff Haught stood by the door as they came in.

  “Good mawnin’, boys. I hope durin’ your sojourn in Rock Springs I won’t have to escort you here officially.” He went out, his little eyes twinkling merrily, and closed the door.

  “You’re just in time for a cup of coffee and maybe something else besides. The hotel waiter usually brings me a good deal more than I can eat.”

  “We had our breakfast,” said Vince, “but I reckon another cup of coffee wouldn’t go so bad.”

  “Vince, I think I want you to go back to South Pass today.”

  “O.K. by me,” replied Vince. “Any orders, boss?”

  “Wait,” returned Lincoln. “Thatcher, how would you like to throw in with us?”

  “I’d sure be glad and powerful lucky. Things have broke out bad for me in the valley.”

  “So Vince told me. Just now I don’t know what we will be up against but we may have some serious work to do. I’m on the trail of something big here in Wyoming. You may have guessed what, or Vince may already have told you. Later, if we’re lucky I’ll get me a bunch of cattle and a ranch and we’ll go partners. I still have the money, and all we need is the luck. Now, Thatcher, I appreciate that you were in some mess similar to Vince’s. But I assure you I’m not going to be curious. Tell me what you like or nothing at all, as you see fit — the important thing is, are you willing to throw in with us?”

  “Here’s my hand, Bradway,” said the cowboy, thrusting out a lean brown paw. “I think you’re a square shooter. I’ve been on the ragged edge for a few days but this offer of yours gives me a new start.”

  The Nebraskan returned the strong handclasp and watched the warm light that shone in Thatcher’s eyes. He knew cowboys, and these two would be fit partners to tie to. “Good,” he responded heartily, “that settles that.”

  “Bradway, I’ll get this off my chest pronto. Did you come here to meet Hank Miller?” queried Thatcher.

  “Partly. But really I reckon I was following Lucy Bandon. Has Vince told you how it is with her and me?”

  “No, Vince didn’t say much — but I guessed it.”

  “Lucy agreed to meet me at the Pass and when she failed to show up I became worried and thought it best to follow her. I was afraid that Kit was trying to make Lucy think her aunt had me roped and tied.”

  Thatcher let out a short laugh. “Ha! Kit could do that little thing, pronto — Now about Miller. He forced you to draw on him?”

  “He sure did.”

  “Bradway, it strikes me you fellows wouldn’t draw without a word with each other.”

  “No, we had quite a few words,” replied Lincoln grimly.

  “Were you aiming to find out anything?”

  “Yes,” replied Lincoln.

  “He didn’t know you — never had heard of you?”

  “No, I was a stranger to him. Hadn’t the slightest suspicion that I was Jimmy Weston’s friend.”

  “Then you asked him — something about Jimmy?” queried Thatcher, a little huskily.

  “Yes, I told him plenty. I said: ‘I know that you hauled him away from Kit Bandon’s ranch dead or alive.’... And Miller replied, ‘Not alive — dead!’?”

  “Pard, Miller would seem to have insinuated there that he had killed your friend. But as a matter of fact he didn’t kill Jimmy.”

  Vince emitted a prolonged low whistle. Linc stared. He wondered about Thatcher’s agitation.

  “As a matter of fact I really didn’t suspect Miller of killing Jimmy,” Lincoln continued. “In the last moment he showed guilt of some kind but not that kind of guilt.”

  “Never mind how I come to know, but that’s the truth,” concluded Mel hurriedly, snatching up his cup and gulping its contents.

  The Nebraskan dropped his eyes to his plate. He did not want to reveal mor
e just then. Mel had added another thought-provoking angle to this mystery. It was conceivable, Bradway thought, that he might know who actually had killed Jimmy, but the fact that Thatcher, through his own choice, did not go further in untangling the plot seemed to be a proof that somehow Kit Bandon was involved in it.

  “Thanks, Mel,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s something. Let’s not talk about it any more now.”

  Suddenly Vince spoke up. “Boss, excuse me, but I think this is the time to ask you somethin’. Not fer my sake, or fer Mel’s, but fer Lucy’s! Now thet she is a part of this thing, you jest cain’t handle the deal as you were goin’ to before.”

  “All right, Vince, come out with it.”

  “Don’t hold this agin me pard, but wouldn’t it — jest wouldn’t it be a good idee fer Lucy’s sake to fergit about this Jimmy Weston deal?”

  “What are you talking about, Vince? How can I overlook it — even for Lucy’s sake?” expostulated Lincoln.

  “Wal, I see it thet way, thet’s all. Is it fair to Lucy fer you to go on diggin’ up this lousy deal? Yore pretty shore to hev more gunplay and you cain’t be so damn shore thet yore goin’ to go on bein’ lucky.”

  “Vince, I appreciate how you feel, old timer, but I can’t give up this deal. I suppose I am bull-headed enough — conceited enough perhaps — to believe I can avenge Jimmy’s murder and still get out of it with a whole skin.”

  “Thet’s fair talk, pard. One way or another Mel and I are bound to trail with you.”

  “All right. Let’s get back to business. Here’s some money. You and Mel take the morning stage back to South Pass. I’ll be there in two or three days — maybe sooner. I want to know more about the activity of the cattlemen there. Use your own heads and smoke out all you can. If you go down in the valley leave word at the livery stable with Bill Headly where you’re going and where I can find you. I’ll trail you pronto. I don’t need to remind you any more to lay off the drink — We’ve got to have clear heads.”