XXVI.
WHEN THE DEATH GLOOM GATHERS.
Amos staggered out of the fog of powder smoke and groped his way tothe door. He took the center of the street reeling as he went, andmade his way to his home. The scenes at the Bucket of Blood weremagnified in his whisky-crazed brain. He raved in wild delirium,fighting the demons that gathered around his bedside. The doctor cameand shook his head. "He has been drinking so long that my medicinewill not act," he said. Amos glared wildly from his bloodshot eyeswhen a monkey seemed to leap on the footboard. He held a glass in hishand. "Have a cocktail, Amos," said the monkey, as he tossed theliquid into the air and caught it in another glass. Amos' throat wasparched and he wanted the cocktail, but the monkey did not give it tohim. A rhinoceros came creeping through the wall and looked at himwith its leaden eyes. The monkey tossed the cocktail into the wideopen mouth of the rhinoceros, who smacked his lips and said to themonkey, "Let's play ante over."
"All right," replied the monkey, "what with?"
"Get his eye, get his eye," exclaimed the rhinoceros.
The monkey crept forward and plucked out one of Amos' eyes, as hegroaned and yelled. For awhile the rhinoceros was on one side of thedresser and the monkey on the other, tossing his eye to and frobetween them. The scene changed. He was on a white horse, plungingdown a steep rocky road lined with trees on either side; pythons andrattlesnakes reached out from among the branches striking their fangsat his head. There was the form of a dead woman behind him on thehorse. Her cold arms clung about his neck as little devils came outfrom behind the trees and shouted: "You did it; you did it." The horsewas now plunging over a snow-covered country. He felt the icy windschill his heart. He was trying to shake off the dead arms that clungto his neck, when the horse stopped in a wild spot among the rocks. Agrave digger, with the flesh of face and arms dried to the bone,appeared. "We will bury her here," he said as he sunk his spade intothe earth. As the grave digger threw up the clods they turned tolittle devils, the size of frogs and yelped, "We are the sins of Amoscome out of the grave." The vision passed and another appeared. ThreeSisters of Charity stood at the footboard of his bed. They werelooking down on him with sorrowful eyes. One of them lifted her handand all was a livid flame. Amos raised his head and gave one prolongedshriek. A shriek of death.
When Amos returned to Saguache after his spree with Rayder his firstact was to purchase a ranch in the San Luis valley and deed it to hiswife. He then went to his assay office and drew down the blinds andsat in the shadows like a cunning old spider in hiding waiting forthe unwary fly for which he had wove his web. His life had been thatof the iconoclast who creates nothing to adorn the world's greatgallery of gods. But he was not philosophical enough to evolve an ideathat would disrupt existing beliefs.
It was some weeks after his arrival home, when he espied Rayder onemorning coming down the street towards his office. He cautiouslyturned the key in his office and slipped over to the Bucket of Bloodand returned with some beer and two quart bottles of whisky. WhenRayder returned an hour later he was maudlin drunk.
Rayder was still pale from the effects of his recent debauch and whenhe found Amos in an intoxicated condition he went away, not caring tostay and talk with him on important business matters lest he shouldget drawn into another spree. Meanwhile, Carson had arrived and spreadthe news of the imprisoned miners under the snow slide. Rayder learnedthat this was the mine he had come to purchase through the connivanceof Amos and concluded to wait and see what time would develop.
Day after day he sought Amos, but the latter was too drunk to talkwith any sense. He then sought Carson and offered financial assistancein the rescue work, but the men spurned the offer. They felt they weredoing a God-given duty and to receive money for an act of that kindwould be debasing their manhood. Such was it then and such is now thespirit of the West. He called at the Amos home, and while he wasreceived by the matron and failed to see Annie, he thought he detectedan air of distress in the surroundings, and attributed it to Amos'condition. Feeling that he was at their home at an inopportune time,he went away and started out to find Amos and if possible persuade himto quit drinking. Not finding him at his office he took a nearer routeand entered the Bucket of Blood by the back door. He passed two orthree hoboes sitting on beer kegs on the outside. "Say, old timer,can't I dig into ye for two bits?" asked one. The man was trembly andhis lips quivered as he spoke. Remembering his own recent conditionRayder handed the fellow a dollar and motioning to the others, said:"Divide up." The men jumped to their feet with alacrity and followedthe first man to the bar.
Rayder walked to the faro table where Amos sat with his back to himputting down twenty dollar gold pieces on the money. "I never squeal,"Amos was saying to another man who was drawing out the cards from thebox. "Bet yer life, man wins my money I never squeal," Amos was sayingto the dealer. "Got skads of it anyhow, and when that's gone I knowwhere to get a mine worth more an' a million." Rayder stood watchingthe player tossing twenty after twenty in gold and tapping a tiny bellnow and then when a waiter came and took the orders from those seatedaround the table watching the game. They all called for whisky exceptthe dealer, he took a cigar. It requires a clear head to deal faro.
Rayder grew tired of watching and sat down. He was thinking where didAmos get so much money? He had not attended to the business of hisoffice since his recovery and had had no occasion to look into hischeck book. After a certain period of the night with Amos in his backoffice, everything was a blank. He remembered the conversation aboutAnnie and the mine but had no recollection about signing the check. Tosee Amos sitting at that table losing money like a prince at MonteCarlo, almost took his breath. He began to feel certain now as to thefabulous riches of the mine, for he could conceive of no other way bywhich Amos could get possession of so much money. He had learned ofMrs. Amos purchasing the ranch and paying for it in gold, and wonderedat the time. Then he thought that perhaps Amos was trying to throw himoff the purchase of the mine in order to secure the property himself.There was a mystery somewhere he could not fathom.
The board partition against which he sat was thin, and while he wasnot playing eavesdropper, he could not help hearing: "The secret ofthat mine has been known to me since I was a child," a woman wassaying, "but I never supposed Carson would locate it when I gave himthe papers." And then she recounted the story of the hidden Spanishtreasure in the Grand river hills and continued: "The two men they aretrying to rescue from under the snow slide are dead long ago and theonly one left that is interested is Carson. I will get him out of theway, and you must file on the claim, I cannot, for I am an Indian, butyou can. Besides, I could never sing my death song in peace if helives."
"Tonight, then," her companion said. "You had better act beforematters go any farther."
Here was another revelation to Rayder, he saw coming through onearchway an Indian woman, and through the other, Coyote Jim who slowlywalked toward the faro table. Rayder's first and best impulse was tosee Carson and warn him of impending danger. His second thought wasthat such a course would be bad financial policy. No, he would let thewoman kill him if she could and he would jump the claim himself. Hewas certain now of its fabulous value and determined to have it at anyprice.
And so the old black crow sat and waited and plotted, while the otherold black crow gambled away his money, and when the shooting was over,and the coal oil lamps flickered their sickly flame through thecurling powder smoke, Rayder was raised from the floor where he hadflattened himself against the baseboard, trembling like a frightenedsheep about to be led to the slaughter.
Where Strongest Tide Winds Blew Page 26