by Zane Grey
All this time Case had been sitting on the grass, saying nothing, but with his little eyes watchful. Mordaunt stood near him, his head bowed, his face gloomy.
“Say, cap’n, I don’t like this mess,” whispered Case to his master. “They ain’t no crew fer us. I know men, fer I’ve sailed the seas, an’ you’re goin’ to get what Metz calls the double-cross.”
Mordaunt seemed to arouse from his gloomy reverie. He looked at Brandt and Legget who were now in earnest council. Then his eyes wandered toward Helen. She beckoned him to come to her.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked.
“Brandt understood my case. He planned this thing, and seemed to be a good friend of mine. He said if I once got you out of the settlement, he would give me protection until I crossed the border into Canada. There we could be married,” replied Mordaunt unsteadily.
“Then you meant marriage by me, if I could be made to consent?”
“Of course. I’m not utterly vile,” he replied, with face lowered in shame.
“Have you any idea what you’ve done?”
“Done? I don’t understand.”
“You have ruined yourself, lost your manhood, become an outlaw, a fugitive, made yourself the worst thing on the border—a girl-thief, and all for nothing.”
“No, I have you. You are more to me than all.”
“But can’t you see? You’ve brought me out here for Brandt!”
“My God!” exclaimed Mordaunt. He rose slowly to his feet and gazed around like a man suddenly wakened from a dream. “I see it all now! Miserable, drunken wretch that I am!”
Helen saw his face change and lighten as if a cloud of darkness had passed away from it. She understood that love of liquor had made him a party to this plot. Brandt had cunningly worked upon his weakness, proposed a daring scheme; and filled his befogged mind with hopes that, in a moment of clear-sightedness, he would have seen to be vain and impossible. And Helen understood also that the sudden shock of surprise, pain, possible fury, had sobered Mordaunt, probably for the first time in weeks.
The Englishman’s face became exceedingly pale. Seating himself on a stone near Case, he bowed his head, remaining silent and motionless.
The conference between Legget and Brandt lasted for some time. When it ended the latter strode toward the motionless figure on the rock.
“Mordaunt, you and Case will do well to follow this Indian at once to the river, where you can strike the Fort Pitt trail,” said Brandt.
He spoke arrogantly and authoritatively. His keen, hard face, his steely eyes, bespoke the iron will and purpose of the man.
Mordaunt rose with cold dignity. If he had been a dupe, he was one no longer, as could be plainly read on his calm, pale face. The old listlessness, the unsteadiness had vanished. He wore a manner of extreme quietude; but his eyes were like balls of blazing blue steel.
“Mr. Brandt, I seem to have done you a service, and am no longer required,” he said in a courteous tone.
Brandt eyed his man; but judged him wrongly. An English gentleman was new to the border-outlaw.
“I swore the girl should be mine,” he hissed.
“Doomed men cannot be choosers!” cried Helen, who had heard him. Her dark eyes burned with scorn and hatred.
All the party heard her passionate outburst. Case arose as if unconcernedly, and stood by the side of his master. Legget and the other two outlaws came up. The Indians turned their swarthy faces.
“Hah! ain’t she sassy?” cried Legget.
Brandt looked at Helen, understood the meaning of her words, and laughed. But his face paled, and involuntarily his shifty glance sought the rocks and trees upon the ridge.
“You played me from the first?” asked Mordaunt quietly.
“I did,” replied Brandt.
“You meant nothing of your promise to help me across the border?”
“No.”
“You intended to let me shift for myself out here in this wilderness?”
“Yes, after this Indian guides you to the river-trail,” said Brandt, indicating with his finger the nearest savage.
“I get what you frontier men call the double-cross’?”
“That’s it,” replied Brandt with a hard laugh, in which Legget joined.
A short pause ensued.
“What will you do with the girl?”
“That’s my affair.”
“Marry her?” Mordaunt’s voice was low and quiet.
“No!” cried Brandt. “She flaunted my love in my face, scorned me! She saw that borderman strike me, and by God! I’ll get even. I’ll keep her here in the woods until I’m tired of her, and when her beauty fades I’ll turn her over to Legget.”
Scarcely had the words dropped from his vile lips when Mordaunt moved with tigerish agility. He seized a knife from the belt of one of the Indians.
“Die!” he screamed.
Brandt grasped his tomahawk. At the same instant the man who had acted as Mordaunt’s guide grasped the Englishman from behind.
Brandt struck ineffectually at the struggling man.
“Fair play!” roared Case, leaping at Mordaunt’s second assailant. His long knife sheathed its glittering length in the man’s breast. Without even a groan he dropped. “Clear the decks!” Case yelled, sweeping round in a circle. All fell back before that whirling knife.
Several of the Indians started as if to raise their rifles; but Legget’s stern command caused them to desist.
The Englishman and the outlaw now engaged in a fearful encounter. The practiced, rugged, frontier desperado apparently had found his match in this pale-faced, slender man. His border skill with the hatchet seemed offset by Mordaunt’s terrible rage. Brandt whirled and swung the weapon as he leaped around his antagonist. With his left arm the Englishman sought only to protect his head, while with his right he brandished the knife. Whirling here and there they struggled across the cleared space, plunging out of sight among the willows. During a moment there was a sound as of breaking branches; then a dull blow, horrible to hear, followed by a low moan, and then deep silence.
CHAPTER XVIII
A black weight was seemingly lifted from Helen’s weary eyelids. The sun shone; the golden forest surrounded her; the brook babbled merrily; but where were the struggling, panting men? She noticed presently, when her vision had grown more clear, that the scene differed entirely from the willow-glade where she had closed her eyes upon the fight. Then came the knowledge that she had fainted, and, during the time of unconsciousness, been moved.
She lay upon a mossy mound a few feet higher than a swiftly running brook. A magnificent chestnut tree spread its leafy branches above her. Directly opposite, about an hundred feet away, loomed a gray, ragged, moss-stained cliff. She noted this particularly because the dense forest encroaching to its very edge excited her admiration. Such wonderful coloring seemed unreal. Dead gold and bright red foliage flamed everywhere.
Two Indians stood near by silent, immovable. No other of Legget’s band was visible. Helen watched the red men.
Sinewy, muscular warriors they were, with bodies partially painted, and long, straight hair, black as burnt wood, interwoven with bits of white bone, and plaited around waving eagle plumes. At first glance their dark faces and dark eyes were expressive of craft, cunning, cruelty, courage, all attributes of the savage.
Yet wild as these savages appeared, Helen did not fear them as she did the outlaws. Brandt’s eyes, and Legget’s, too, when turned on her, emitted a flame that seemed to scorch and shrivel her soul. When the savages met her gaze, which was but seldom, she imagined she saw intelligence, even pity, in their dusky eyes. Certain it was she did not shrink from them as from Brandt.
Suddenly, with a sensation of relief and joy, she remembered Mordaunt’s terrible onslaught upon Brandt. Although she could not recollect the termination of that furious struggle, she did recall Brandt’s scream of mortal agony, and the death of the other at Case’s hands. This meant, whether Brandt was de
ad or not, that the fighting strength of her captors had been diminished. Surely as the sun had risen that morning, Helen believed Jonathan and Wetzel lurked on the trail of these renegades. She prayed that her courage, hope, strength, might be continued.
“Ugh!” exclaimed one of the savages, pointing across the open space. A slight swaying of the bushes told that some living thing was moving among them, and an instant later the huge frame of the leader came into view. The other outlaw, and Case, followed closely. Farther down the margin of the thicket the Indians appeared; but without the slightest noise or disturbance of the shrubbery.
It required but a glance to show Helen that Case was in high spirits. His repulsive face glowed with satisfaction. He carried a bundle, which Helen saw, with a sickening sense of horror, was made up of Mordaunt’s clothing. Brandt had killed the Englishman. Legget also had a package under his arm, which he threw down when he reached the chestnut tree, to draw from his pocket a long, leather belt, such as travelers use for the carrying of valuables. It was evidently heavy, and the musical clink which accompanied his motion proclaimed the contents to be gold.
Brandt appeared next; he was white and held his hand to his breast. There were dark stains on his hunting coat, which he removed to expose a shirt blotched with red.
“You ain’t much hurt, I reckon?” inquired Legget solicitously.
“No; but I’m bleeding bad,” replied Brandt coolly. He then called an Indian and went among the willows skirting the stream.
“So I’m to be in this border crew?” asked Case, looking up at Legget.
“Sure,” replied the big outlaw. “You’re a handy fellar, Case, an’ after I break you into border ways you will fit in here tip-top. Now you’d better stick by me. When Eb Zane, his brother Jack, an’ Wetzel find out this here day’s work, hell will be a cool place compared with their whereabouts. You’ll be safe with me, an’ this is the only place on the border, I reckon, where you can say your life is your own.”
“I’m yer mate, cap’n. I’ve sailed with soldiers, pirates, sailors, an’ I guess I can navigate this borderland. Do we mess here? You didn’t come far.”
“Wal, I ain’t pertikuler, but I don’t like eatin’ with buzzards,” said Legget, with a grin. “Thet’s why we moved a bit.”
“What’s buzzards?”
“Ho! ho! Mebbe you’ll hev ’em closer’n you’d like, some day, if you’d only know it. Buzzards are fine birds, most particular birds, as won’t eat nothin’ but flesh, an’ white man or Injun is pie fer ’em.”
“Cap’n, I’ve seed birds as wouldn’t wait till a man was dead,” said Case.
“Haw! haw! you can’t come no sailor yarns on this fellar. Wal, now, we’ve got ther Englishman’s gold. One or t’other of us might jest as well hev it all.”
“Right yer are, cap’n. Dice, cards, anyways, so long as I knows the game.”
“Here, Jenks, hand over yer clickers, an’ bring us a flat stone,” said Legget, sitting on the moss and emptying the belt in front of him. Case took a small bag from the dark blue jacket that had so lately covered Mordaunt’s shoulders, and poured out its bright contents.
“This coat ain’t worth keepin’,” he said, holding it up. The garment was rent and slashed, and under the left sleeve was a small, blood-stained hole where one of Brandt’s blows had fallen. “Hullo, what’s this?” muttered the sailor, feeling in the pocket of the jacket. “Blast my timbers, hooray!”
He held up a small, silver-mounted whiskey flask, unscrewed the lid, and lifted the vessel to his mouth.
“I’m kinder thirsty myself,” suggested Legget.
“Cap’n, a nip an’ no more,” Case replied, holding the flask to Legget’s lips.
The outlaw called Jenks now returned with a flat stone which he placed between the two men. The Indians gathered around. With greedy eyes they bent their heads over the gamblers, and watched every movement with breathless interest. At each click of the dice, or clink of gold, they uttered deep exclamations.
“Luck’s again’ ye, cap’n,” said Case, skilfully shaking the ivory cubes.
“Hain’t I got eyes?” growled the outlaw.
Steadily his pile of gold diminished, and darker grew his face.
“Cap’n, I’m a bad wind to draw,” Case rejoined, drinking again from the flask. His naturally red face had become livid, his skin moist, and his eyes wild with excitement.
“Hullo! If them dice wasn’t Jenks’s, an’ I hadn’t played afore with him, I’d swear they’s loaded.”
“You ain’t insinuatin’ nothin’, cap’n?” inquired Case softly, hesitating with the dice in his hands, his evil eyes glinting at Legget.
“No, you’re fair enough,” growled the leader. “It’s my tough luck.”
The game progressed with infrequent runs of fortune for the outlaw, and presently every piece of gold lay in a shining heap before the sailor.
“Clean busted!” exclaimed Legget in disgust.
“Can’t you find nothin’ more?” asked Case.
The outlaw’s bold eyes wandered here and there until they rested upon the prisoner.
“I’ll play ther lass against yer pile of gold,” he growled. “Best two throws outen three. See here, she’s as much mine as Brandt’s.”
“Make it half my pile an’ I’ll go you.”
“Nary time. Bet, or give me back what yer win,” replied Legget gruffly.
“She’s a trim little craft, no mistake,” said Case, critically surveying Helen. “All right, cap’n, I’ve sportin’ blood, an’ I’ll bet. Yer throw first.”
Legget won the first cast, and Case the second. With deliberation the outlaw shook the dice in his huge fist, and rattled them out upon the stone. “Hah!” he cried in delight. He had come within one of the highest score possible. Case nonchalantly flipped the little white blocks. The Indians crowded forward, their dusky eyes shining.
Legget swore in a terrible voice which re-echoed from the stony cliff. The sailor was victorious. The outlaw got up, kicked the stone and dice in the brook, and walked away from the group. He strode to and fro under one of the trees. Gruffly he gave an order to the Indians. Several of them began at once to kindle a fire. Presently he called Jenks, who was fishing the dice out of the brook, and began to converse earnestly with him, making fierce gestures and casting lowering glances at the sailor.
Case was too drunk now to see that he had incurred the enmity of the outlaw leader. He drank the last of the rum, and tossed the silver flask to an Indian, who received the present with every show of delight.
Case then, with the slow, uncertain movements of a man whose mind is befogged, began to count his gold; but only to gather up a few pieces when they slipped out of his trembling hands to roll on the moss. Laboriously, seriously, he kept at it with the doggedness of a drunken man. Apparently he had forgotten the others. Failing to learn the value of the coins by taking up each in turn, he arranged them in several piles, and began to estimate his wealth in sections.
In the meanwhile Helen, who had not failed to take in the slightest detail of what was going on, saw that a plot was hatching which boded ill to the sailor. Moreover, she heard Legget and Jenks whispering.
“I kin take him from right here ’atwixt his eyes,” said Jenks softly, and tapped his rifle significantly.
“Wal, go ahead, only I ruther hev it done quieter,” answered Legget. “We’re yet a long ways, near thirty miles, from my camp, an’ there’s no tellin’ who’s in ther woods. But we’ve got ter git rid of ther fresh sailor, an’ there’s no surer way.”
Cautiously cocking his rifle, Jenks deliberately raised it to his shoulder. One of the Indian sentinels who stood near at hand, sprang forward and struck up the weapon. He spoke a single word to Legget, pointed to the woods above the cliff, and then resumed his statue-like attitude.
“I told yer, Jenks, that it wouldn’t do. The redskin scents somethin’ in the woods, an’ ther’s an Injun I never seed fooled. We mustn’t make a noise. T
ake yer knife an’ tomahawk, crawl down below the edge o’ the bank an’ slip up on him. I’ll give half ther gold fer ther job.”
Jenks buckled his belt more tightly, gave one threatening glance at the sailor, and slipped over the bank. The bed of the brook lay about six feet below the level of the ground. This afforded an opportunity for the outlaw to get behind Case without being observed. A moment passed. Jenks disappeared round a bend of the stream. Presently his grizzled head appeared above the bank. He was immediately behind the sailor; but still some thirty feet away. This ground must be covered quickly and noiselessly. The outlaw began to crawl. In his right hand he grasped a tomahawk, and between his teeth was a long knife. He looked like a huge, yellow bear.
The savages, with the exception of the sentinel who seemed absorbed in the dense thicket on the cliff, sat with their knees between their hands, watching the impending tragedy.
Nothing but the merest chance, or some extraordinary intervention, could avert Case’s doom. He was gloating over his gold. The creeping outlaw made no more noise than a snake. Nearer and nearer he came; his sweaty face shining in the sun; his eyes tigerish; his long body slipping silently over the grass. At length he was within five feet of the sailor. His knotty hands were dug into the sward as he gathered energy for a sudden spring.
At that very moment Case, with his hand on his knife, rose quickly and turned round.
The outlaw, discovered in the act of leaping, had no alternative, and spring he did, like a panther.
The little sailor stepped out of line with remarkable quickness, and as the yellow body whirled past him, his knife flashed blue-bright in the sunshine.
Jenks fell forward, his knife buried in the grass beneath him, and his outstretched hand still holding the tomahawk.
“Tryin’ ter double-cross me fer my gold,” muttered the sailor, sheathing his weapon. He never looked to see whether or no his blow had been fatal. “These border fellars might think a man as sails the seas can’t handle a knife.” He calmly began gathering up his gold, evidently indifferent to further attack.
Helen saw Legget raise his own rifle, but only to have it struck aside as had Jenks’s. This time the savage whispered earnestly to Legget, who called the other Indians around him. The sentinel’s low throaty tones mingled with the soft babbling of the stream. No sooner had he ceased speaking than the effect of his words showed how serious had been the information, warning or advice. The Indians cast furtive glances toward the woods. Two of them melted like shadows into the red and gold thicket. Another stealthily slipped from tree to tree until he reached the open ground, then dropped into the grass, and was seen no more until his dark body rose under the cliff. He stole along the green-stained wall, climbed a rugged corner, and vanished amid the dense foliage.