The Cattle-Baron's Daughter

Home > Fiction > The Cattle-Baron's Daughter > Page 27
The Cattle-Baron's Daughter Page 27

by Harold Bindloss


  XXVII

  CLAVERING'S LAST CARD

  There was an impressive silence in Hetty's little drawing-room at CedarRange when Cheyne, who had ridden there the day after he left Fremont,told his story. He had expected attention, but the effect his narrativeproduced astonished him. Hetty had softly pushed her chair back into theshadow where the light of the shaded lamp did not fall upon her, but herstillness was significant. He could, however, see Miss Schuyler, andwondered what accounted for the impassiveness of her face, now the colourthat had flushed her cheek had faded. The silence was becomingembarrassing when Miss Schuyler broke it.

  "Mr. Grant is recovering?" she asked.

  "Yes," said Cheyne. "He was coming round when I left him. The blow mighthave been a dangerous one; but I had a suspicion he had more than that tocontend with."

  "Yes?" said Hetty, a little breathlessly.

  "Of course, his affairs were not my business," Cheyne went on, "but itseemed to me the man had been living under a heavy strain; and though wewere strangers, I could not help feeling a sympathy that almost amountedto a liking for him. He must have found it trying when the men he had donehis best for came round to burn his place; but I understand he went out tospeak to them with empty hands when they struck him down."

  "What made them attack him?" asked Miss Schuyler.

  "I'm not quite sure, but I have an idea they were displeased because hedid not countenance their attempt to wreck the cattle-train. Then, Ibelieve he held some dollars in trust for them, and, as they presumablywanted them for some fresh outrage, would not give them up. Mr. Grant isevidently a man with a sense of responsibility."

  Hetty looked up suddenly. "Yes," she said. "He would have let them tearhim to pieces before he gave them one."

  Cheyne noticed the faint ring in her voice, and fancied it would have beenplainer had she not laid a restraint upon herself. A vague suspicion hehad brushed away once more crept into his mind.

  "Well," he said, slowly, watching Hetty the while, "I fancy the efforts hemade to save your friends' stock will cost him a good deal. The point isthat a man of his abilities must have recognized it at the time."

  Hetty met his glance, and Cheyne saw the little glow in her eyes. "Do youthink that would have counted for anything with such a man?"

  Cheyne made a little gesture of negation that in a curious fashion becamehim. "No. That is, I do not believe he would have let it influence him."

  "That," said Miss Schuyler, "is a very comprehensive admission."

  Cheyne smiled. "I don't know that I could desire a higher tribute paid tome. Might one compliment you both on your evident desire to be fair toyour enemies?"

  He saw the faint flush in Hetty's face, and was waiting with a curiousexpectancy for her answer, when Torrance came in. He appeared grimlypleased at something as he signed to Cheyne.

  "His friends have burned the rascal out," he said. "Well, I don't knowthat we could have hoped for anything better; but I want to hear what youcan tell me about it. You will have to spare me Captain Cheyne for alittle, Hetty."

  Cheyne rose and went away with him, while, when the door closed behindthem, Hetty--who had seen the vindictive satisfaction in her father'sface--turned to her companion with a flash of imperious anger in hereyes.

  "Flo," she said, "how can he? It's wicked of him."

  Miss Schuyler checked her with a gesture. "Any way, he is your father."

  Hetty flushed, but the colour faded and left her face white again. "Well,"she said, "Clavering isn't, and it is he who has made him so bitteragainst Larry. Flo, it's horrible. They would have been glad if the boyshad killed him, and when he's ill and wounded they will not let me go tohim."

  Her voice broke and trembled, and Flora Schuyler laid a hand restraininglyupon her arm. "Of course. But why should you, Hetty?"

  Hetty, who shook off her grasp, rose and stood quivering a little, butvery straight, looking down on her with pride, and a curious hardness inher eyes.

  "You don't know?" she said. "Then I'll tell you. Because there is nobodylike Larry, and never will be. Because I love him better than I everfancied I could love anybody, and--though it's 'most wonderful--he hasloved me and waited ever so patiently. Now they are all against him, I'mgoing to him. Flo, they have 'most made me hate them, the people I belongto, and I think if I was a man I could kill Clavering."

  Flora Schuyler sat very still a moment, but it was fortunate she retainedher composure whatever she may have felt, for Hetty was in a mood for anyrashness. Stretching out her hand, she drew the girl down beside her witha forceful gentleness.

  "Hetty," she said, "I think I know how such a man as Larry is would feel,and you want him to be proud of you. Well, there are things that neitherhe nor you could do, and you must listen to me quietly."

  She reasoned with the girl for a while until Hetty shook the passion fromher.

  "Of course you are right, Flo," she said, and her voice was even. "If hecould bear all that, I can be patient too. Larry has had ever so many hardthings to do, but it is only because it would not be fair to him I'm notgoing to him now. Flo, you will not leave me until the trouble'sthrough?"

  Miss Schuyler turned and kissed her, and then, rising quietly, went out ofthe room. She had shown Hetty her duty to Larry, which she felt would bemore convincing just then than an exposition of what she owed her father,and had reasons for desiring solitude to grapple with affairs of her own.What she had done had cost her an effort, but Flora Schuyler was fond ofHetty and recognized the obligation of the bond she was contracting whenshe made a friend.

  Some minutes had passed when Hetty rose and took down her writing-casefrom a shelf. She could at least communicate with Larry, for the maid, whohad more than one admirer among the cow-boys, had found a means by whichletters could be conveyed; but the girl could not command her thoughts,and written sympathy seemed so poor and cold a thing. Two letters werewritten and flung into the stove, for Flora Schuyler's counsel was bearingfruit; and she had commenced two more when there was a tapping at thedoor. Hetty looked up with a little flash in her eyes, and swept thepapers into the writing-case as Clavering came in. Then she rose, andstood looking at him very coldly.

  It was an especially unfortunate moment for the man to approach her in,and, though he did not know why it should be so, he recognized it; butthere were reasons that made any further procrastination distinctlyunadvisable.

  "There is something I have been wanting to tell you for a long time,Hetty," he said.

  "It would be better for you to wait a little longer," the girl saidchillingly. "I don't feel inclined to listen to anything to-night."

  "The trouble," said Clavering, who spoke the truth, "is that I can't. Ithas hurt me to keep silent as long as I have done already."

  He saw the hardening of Hetty's lips, and knew that he had blundered; buthe was committed now, and could only obey when she said, with a gesture ofweariness "Then go on."

  The abrupt command would probably have disconcerted most men andeffectually spoiled the appeal they meant to make, and Clavering's faceflushed as he recognized its ludicrous aspect. Still, he could notwithdraw then, and he made the best of a difficult position with a certaingracefulness which might, under different circumstances, have secured hima modicum of consideration. As it was, however, Hetty's anger left heralmost white, and there was a light he did not care to see in her eyeswhen she turned towards him.

  "I am glad you have told me this," she said. "Since nothing else wouldconvince you, it will enable me to talk plainly; I don't consider it anhonour--not in the least. Can't you see that it is wholly and altogetherout of the question that I should ever think in that way of you?"

  Clavering gasped, and the darker colour that was in his cheek showed inhis forehead too. Hetty reminded him very much of her father, then--and hehad witnessed one or two displays of the cattle-baron's temper.

  "I admit that I have a good many shortcomings, but, since you ask, I mustconfess that I don't quite understand why my respectful off
er should rouseyour indignation."

  "No?" said Hetty coldly, with the vindictive sparkle still in her eyes."Then aren't you very foolish?"

  Clavering smiled, though it was not easy. "Well," he said, "I wasevidently too audacious; but you have not told me yet why the proposal Iventured to make should appear quite preposterous."

  "I think," said Hetty, "it would be considerably nicer for you if Ididn't. I can, however, tell you this--I would never, under anycircumstances, marry you."

  Clavering bent his head, and took himself away with the best grace hecould, while Hetty, who, perhaps because she had been under a heavystrain, became suddenly sensible of a most illogical desire to laugh,afterwards admitted that he really accomplished it becomingly. But thelaughter that would have been a relief to her did not come, and aftertoying in a purposeless fashion with her writing-case, she rose andslipped out of the room, unfortunately leaving it open.

  A few minutes later Clavering met the maid in the corridor that led toTorrance's room, and the girl, who saw his face, and may have guessed whathad brought the anger into his eyes, stopped a moment. It is also probablethat, being a young woman with quick perceptions, she had guessed withsome correctness how far his regard for Hetty went.

  "You don't seem pleased to-night," she said.

  "No?" said Clavering, with a little laugh which rang hollow. "Well, Ishould be. It is quite a while since I had a talk with you."

  "Pshaw!" said the girl, who failed to blush, though she wished to,watching him covertly. "Now, I wonder if what I'm going to tell you willmake you more angry still. Suppose you heard Miss Torrance had beensending letters to Larry Grant?"

  "I don't know that I should believe it," said Clavering, as unconcernedlyas he could.

  "Well, she has," the girl said. "What is more, she has been going out tomeet him in the Cedar Bluff."

  Clavering's face betrayed him, and for a moment the girl, who saw his lipsset, was almost afraid. He contrived, however, to make a light answer, andwas about to ask a question when a door creaked. The next moment Torrancecame out into the corridor, and Clavering's opportunity vanished with themaid. Torrance, who had evidently not seen her, kept him talking for awhile.

  In the meanwhile, the girl contrived an excuse for entering the room whereshe was quite aware Hetty and Clavering had met. She did not find hermistress, but, as it happened, noticed the writing-case, and, having astake in affairs, opened it. Inside she found two sheets of paper, andafter considering the probabilities of detection appropriated one of themon which was written, "Larry dear."

  She had, however, no intention of showing it to Clavering just then, but,deciding that such a paper might be worth a good many dollars to theperson who knew how to make use of it, she slipped it into her pocket, andwent out into the hall, where she saw him talking to Torrance. As shewatched they shook hands, and Clavering swung himself on to the back of ahorse somebody led up to the door. It was two or three weeks before hecame back again, and was led straight to the room where Torrance and someof his neighbours were sitting. Clavering took his place among the rest,and watched the faces that showed amidst the blue cigar-smoke. Some wereintent and eager, a few very grim, but the stamp of care was on all ofthem save that of Torrance, who sat immobile and expressionless at thehead of the table. Allonby was speaking somewhat dejectedly.

  "It seems to me that we have only gone round," he said. "It has cost usmore dollars than any of us care to reckon, and I for one am tolerablynear the end of my tether."

  "So are the homestead-boys. We can last them out, and we have got to,"said somebody.

  Allonby raised his hand with a little hopeless gesture. "I'm not quitesure; but what I want to show you is that we have come back to the placewe started from. When we first met here we decided that it was advisableto put down Larry Grant, and though we have not accomplished it yet, itseems to me more necessary than ever just now."

  "I don't understand you," said one of the younger men. "Larry's boys havebroken loose from him, and he can't worry anybody much alone."

  Torrance glanced at Allonby with a sardonic twinkle in his eyes. "Thatsounds very like sense," he said.

  "Well," said Allonby drily, "it isn't, and I think you know it at least aswell as I do. It is because the boys have broken out we want to get ourthumb on Larry."

  There was a little murmur of bewilderment, for men were present that nightwho had not attended many meetings of the district committee.

  "You will have to make it plainer," somebody said.

  Allonby glanced at Torrance, who nodded, and then went on. "Now, I knowthat what I am going to tell you does not sound nice, and a year ago Iwould have had unpleasant thoughts of the man who suggested any course ofthat kind to me; but we have got to go under or pull down the enemy. Thelegislature are beginning to look at things with the homesteaders' eyes,and what we want is popular sympathy. We lost a good chance of getting itover the stock-train. Larry was too clever for us again, and that bringsme to the point which should be quite plain. The homestead-boys have losttheir heads and will cut their own throats if they are let alone. They areripe for ranch-burning and firing on the cavalry, and once they start theState will have to step in and whip them out for us."

  "But where does Larry come in?" asked somebody.

  "That," said Clavering, "is quite easy. So long as Larry is loose he willhave a following, and somehow he will hear of and stop their wildestmoves. As most of you know, I don't like him; but Larry is not a fool."

  "To be quite plain, we are to cut out the restraining influence, and givethe rabble a free hand to let loose anarchy," said one man. "Then, you canstrike me off the roll. That is a kind of meanness that wouldn't suitme!"

  There were murmurs of approval from one or two of the company, butTorrance checked them. "Gentlemen," he said, "we must win or be beaten andget no mercy. You can't draw back, and the first step is to put Larrydown. If the State had backed us we would have made an end of the trouble,and it is most square and fitting they should have the whipping of therabble forced upon them now. Are we cavalry troopers or a Sheriff's posse,to do their work for them, and be kicked by way of thanks? They would notnip the trouble when they could, and we'll sit tight and watch them try tocrush it when it's 'most too big for them."

  Again there was a murmur, of grim approval this time; but one of theobjectors rose with an ironical smile.

  "You have made a very poor show at catching Larry so far," he said. "Areyou quite sure the thing is within your ability?"

  "I guess it is," said Torrance sharply. "He is living at his homestead,and we need not be afraid of a hundred men with rifles coming to take himfrom us now."

  "He has a few neighbours who believe in him," one of the men said. "Theyare not rabble, but level-headed Americans, with the hardest kind of gritin them. It wouldn't suit us to be whipped again."

  Clavering stood up, with his eyes fixed on Torrance. "I agree with ourleader--it can be done. In fact, I quite believe we can lay our hands onLarry alone," he said. "Can I have a word with you, Mr. Torrance?"

  Torrance nodded, and, leaving Allonby speaking, led Clavering into anadjoining room. "Sit down, and get through as quick as you can," he said.

  For five minutes Clavering spoke rapidly, in a slightly strained voice,and a dark flush spread across the old man's face and grew deeper on hisforehead, from which the veins swelled. It had faded before he finished,and there were paler patches in the cattle-baron's cheeks when he struckthe table with his fist.

  "Clavering," he said hoarsely, "if you are deceiving me you are not goingto find a hole in this country that would hide you."

  Clavering contrived to meet his gaze, though it was difficult. "I was veryunwilling to mention it," he said. "Still, if you will call MissTorrance's maid, and the man who grooms her horses, you can convinceyourself. It would be better if I was not present when you talk to them."

  Torrance said nothing, but pointed to the door, and when the maid and manhe sent for had gone, sat for five lon
g minutes rigidly still with a setwhite face and his hands clenched on the table.

  "My daughter--playing the traitress--and worse! It is too hard to bear,"he said.

  Then he stood up, shaking the passion from him, when Clavering came in,and, holding himself very stiff and square, turned to him.

  "I don't know why you have told me--now--and do not want to hear," hesaid. "Still, by the Lord who made us both, if you try to make use of thisknowledge for any purpose, or let a whisper get about, I'll crush youutterly."

  "Have I deserved these threats, sir?"

  Torrance looked at him steadily. "Did you expect thanks? The man whogrooms her horses would tell me nothing--he lied like a gentleman. Butthey are not threats. You found buying up mortgages--with our dollars--aneasy game."

  "But--" said Clavering.

  Torrance stopped him with a little scornful gesture. "I knew when I tookthis thing up I would have to let my scruples go, and now--while I wonderwhether my hands will ever feel clean again--I'm going through. You areuseful to the committee, and I'll have to tolerate you."

  Clavering turned away, with pulses throbbing furiously and rage in hisheart, though he had known what the cost would be when he stakedeverything he hoped for on Larry's destruction; while his neighboursnoticed a change in Torrance when he once more sat down at the head of thetable. He seemed several years older, and his face was very grim.

  "I believe I can promise you that Larry will make us no more trouble," hesaid. "Mr. Clavering has a workable scheme, and it will only need theSheriff and a few men whom I will choose when I am ready."

  Nobody seemed to consider it advisable to ask questions, and the mendispersed; but as they went down the stairway, Allonby turned toTorrance.

  "This thing is getting too big for you and me," he said. "You have notcomplained, but to-night one could fancy that it's breaking you. Now, I'mnot made like you, and when I think of what it has cost me I have got totalk."

  Torrance turned, and Allonby shivered as he met his eyes.

  "It has cost me what every dollar I ever made could not buy me back," hesaid, and the damp showed on his forehead as he checked a groan.

 

‹ Prev