“No, no. Garry, don’t be so touchy. You’ve never got over that, I see. Still all pride and fire.”
“You’re not very humble yourself, Henry.”
“Maybe not, maybe not. But I’ve been in a certain position around these parts, Don—Garry. And it’s hard to see it go!”
Donnegan closed his eyes in deep reverie. And then he forced out the words one by one.
“Henry, I’ll let everybody know that it was I who backed down. That we were about to fight.” He was unable to speak; he tore the stock loose at his throat and went on: “We were about to fight; I lost my nerve; you couldn’t shoot a helpless man. We began to talk. We found out we are brothers—”
“Damnation!” broke out Lord Nick, and he struck himself violently across the forehead with the back of his hand. “I’m a skunk, Garry, lad. Why, for a minute I was about to let you do it. No. no, no! A thousand times no!”
It was plain to be seen that he was arguing himself away from the temptation.
“What do I care what they say? We’ll cram the words back down their throats and be hanged to ’em. Here I am worrying about myself like a selfish dog without letting myself be happy over finding you. But I am happy, Garry. Heaven knows it. And you don’t doubt it, do you, old fellow?”
“Ah,” said Donnegan, and he smiled to cover a touch of sadness. “I hope not. No, I don’t doubt you, of course. I’ve spent my life wishing for you since you left us, you see. And then I followed you for three years on the road, hunting everywhere.”
“You did that?”
“Yes. Three years. I liked the careless life. For to tell you the truth, I’m not worth much, Henry. I’m a loafer by instinct, and—”
“Not another word.” There were tears in the eyes of Lord Nick, and he frowned them away. “Confound it, Garry, you unman me. I’ll be weeping like a woman in a minute. But now, sit down. We still have some things to talk over. And we’ll get to a quick conclusion.”
“Ah, yes,” said Donnegan, and at the emotion which had come in the face of Lord Nick, his own expression softened wonderfully. A light seemed to stand in his face. “We’ll brush over the incidentals. And everything is incidental aside from the fact that we’re together again. They can chisel iron chain apart, but we’ll never be separated again, God willing!” He looked up as he spoke, and his face was for the moment as pure as the face of a child—Donnegan, the thief, the beggar, the liar by gift, and the man-killer by trade and artistry.
But Lord Nick in the meantime was looking down to the floor and mustering his thoughts.
“The main thing is entirely simple,” he said. “You’ll make one concession to my pride, Garry, boy?”
“Can you ask me?” said Donnegan softly, and he cast out his hands in a gesture that offered his heart and his soul. “Can you ask me? Anything I have is yours!”
“Don’t say that,” answered Lord Nick tenderly. “But this small thing—my pride, you know—I despise myself for caring what people think, but I’m weak. I admit it, but I can’t help it.”
“Talk out, man. You’ll see if there’s a bottom to things that I can give!”
“Well, it’s this. Everyone knows that I came up here to get young Jack Landis and bring him back to Lebrun’s—from which you stole him, you clever young devil! Well, I’ll simply take him back there, Garry; and then I’ll never have to ask another favor of you.”
He was astonished by a sudden silence, and looking up again, he saw that Donnegan sat with his hand at his breast. It was a singularly feminine gesture to which he resorted. It was a habit which had come to him in his youth in the invalid chair, when the ceaseless torment of his crippled back became too great for him to bear.
And clearly, indeed, those days were brought home to Lord Nick as he glanced up, for Donnegan was staring at him in the same old, familiar agony, mute and helpless.
CHAPTER 33
At this Lord Nick very frankly frowned in turn. And when he frowned his face grew marvelously dark, like some wrathful god, for there was a noble, a Grecian purity to the profile of Henry Nicholas Reardon, and when he frowned he seemed to be scorning, from a distance, ignoble, earthly things which troubled him.
“I know it isn’t exactly easy for you, Garry,” he admitted. “You have your own pride; you have your own position here in The Corner. But I want you to notice that mine is different. You’ve spent a day for what you have in The Corner, here. I’ve spent ten years. You’ve played a prank, acted a part, and cast a jest for what you have. But for the place which I hold, brother mine, I’ve schemed with my wits, played fast and loose, and killed men. Do you hear? I’ve bought it with blood, and things you buy at such a price ought to stick, eh?”
He banished his frown; the smile played suddenly across his features.
“Why, I’m arguing with myself. But that look you gave me a minute ago had me worried for a little while.”
At this Donnegan, who had allowed his head to fall, so that he seemed to be nodding in acquiescence, now raised his face and Lord Nick perceived the same white pain upon it. The same look which had been on the face of the cripple so often in the other days.
“Henry,” said the younger brother, “I give you my oath that my pride has nothing to do with this. I’d let you drive me barefoot before you through the street yonder. I’d let every soul in The Corner know that I have no pride where you’re concerned. I’ll do whatever you wish—with one exception—and that one is the unlucky thing you ask. Pardner, you mustn’t ask for Jack Landis! Anything else I’ll work like a slave to get for you: I’ll fight your battles, I’ll serve you in any way you name: but don’t take Landis back!”
He had talked eagerly, the words coming with a rush, and he found at the end that Lord Nick was looking at him in bewilderment.
“When a man is condemned to death,” said Lord Nick slowly, “suppose somebody offers him anything in the world that he wants—palaces, riches, power—everything except his life. What would the condemned man say to a friend who made such an offer? He’d laugh at him and then call him a traitor. Eh? But I don’t laugh at you, Garry. I simply explain to you why I have to have Landis back. Listen!”
He counted off his points upon the tips of his fingers, in the confident manner of a teacher who deals with a stupid child, waiting patiently for the young mind to comprehend.
“We’ve been bleeding Jack Landis. Do you know why? Because it was Lester who made the strike up here. He started out to file his claim. He stopped at the house of Colonel Macon. That old devil learned the location, learned everything; detained Lester with a trick, and rushed young Landis away to file the claims for himself. Then when Lester came up here he found that his claims had been jumped, and when he went to the law there was no law that could help him. He had nothing but his naked word for what he had discovered. And naturally the word of a ruffian like Lester had no weight against the word of Landis. And, you see, Landis thought that he was entirely in the right. Lester tried the other way; tried to jump the claims; and was shot down by Landis. So Lester sent for me. What was I to do? Kill Landis? The mine would go to his heirs. I tried a different way—bleeding him of his profits, after I’d explained to him that he was in the wrong. He half admitted that, but he naturally wouldn’t give up the mines even after we’d almost proved to him that Lester had the first right. So Landis has been mining the gold and we’ve been drawing it away from him. It looks tricky, but really it’s only just. And Lester and Lebrun split with me.
“But I tell you, Garry, that I’d give up everything without an afterthought. I’ll give up the money and I’ll make Lebrun and Lester shut up without a word. I’ll make them play square and not try to knife Landis in the back. I’ll do all that willingly—for you! But, Garry, I can’t give up taking Landis back to Lebrun’s and keeping him there until he’s well. Why, man, I saw him in the hut just now. He wants to go. He’s afraid of the old colonel as if he were poison—and I think he’s wise in being afraid.”
“The col
onel won’t touch him,” said Donnegan.
“No?”
“No. I’ve told him what would happen if he does.”
“Tush. Garry, Colonel Macon is the coldest-blooded murderer I’ve ever known. But come out in the open, lad. You see that I’m ready to listen to reason—except on one point. Tell me why you’re so set on this keeping of Landis here against my will and even against the lad’s own will? I’m reasonable, Garry. Do you doubt that?”
Explaining his own mildness, the voice of Lord Nick swelled again and filled the room, and he frowned on his brother. But Donnegan looked on him sadly.
“There is a girl—” he began.
“Why didn’t I guess it?” exclaimed Lord Nick. “If ever you find a man unreasonable, stubborn and foolish, you’ll always find a woman behind it! All this trouble because of a piece of calico?”
He leaned back, laughing thunderously in his relief.
“Come, come! I was prepared for a tragedy. Now tell me about this girl. Who and what is she?”
“The daughter of the colonel.”
“You’re in love with her? I’m glad to hear it, Garry. As a matter of fact I’ve been afraid that you were hunting in my own preserve, but if it’s the colonel’s daughter, you’re welcome to her. So you love the girl? She’s pretty, lad!”
“I love her?” said Donnegan in an indescribably tender voice. “I love her? Who am I to love her? A thief, a man-killer, a miserable play actor, a gambler, a drunkard. I love her? Bah!”
If there was one quality of the mind with which Lord Nick was less familiar than with all others, it was humbleness of spirit. He now abased his magnificent head, and resting his chin in the mighty palm of his hand, he stared with astonishment and commiseration into the face of Donnegan. He seemed to be learning new things every moment about his brother.
“Leave me out of the question,” said Donnegan.
“Can’t be done. If I leave you out, dear boy, there’s not one of them that I care a hang about; I’d ride roughshod over the whole lot. I’ve done it before to better men than these!”
“Then you’ll change, I know. This is the fact of the matter. She loves Landis. And if you take Landis away where will you put him?”
“Where he was stolen away. In Lebrun’s.”
“And what will be in Lebrun’s?”
“Joe Rix to guard him and the old negress to nurse him.”’
“No, no! Nelly Lebrun will be there!”
“Eh? Are you glancing at her, now?”
“Henry, you yourself know that Landis is mad about that girl.”
“Oh, she’s flirted a bit with him. Turned the fool’s head. He’ll come out of it safe. She won’t break his heart. I’ve seen her work on others!”
He chuckled at the memory.
“What do I care about Landis?” said Donnegan with unutterable scorn. “It’s the girl. You’ll break her heart, Henry; and if you do I’ll never forgive you.”
“Steady, lad. This is a good deal like a threat.”
“No, no, no! Not a threat, heaven knows!”
“By heaven!” exclaimed Lord Nick. “I begin to be irritated to see you stick on a silly point like this. Listen to me, lad. Do you mean to say that you are making all! this trouble about a slip of a girl?”
“The heart of a girl,” said Donnegan calmly.
“Let Landis go; then take her in your arms and kiss her worries away. I warrant you can do it! I gather from Nell that you’re not tongue-tied around women!”
“I?” echoed Donnegan, turning pale. “Don’t jest at this, Henry. I’m as serious as death. She’s the type of woman made to love one man, and one man only. Landis may be common as dirt; but she doesn’t see it. She’s fastened her heart on him. I looked in on her a little while ago. She turned white when she saw me. I brought Landis to her, but she hates me because I had to shoot him down.”
“Garry,” said the big man with a twinkle in his eye, “you’re in love!”
It shook Donnegan to the core, but he replied instantly; “If I were in love, don’t you suppose that I would have shot to kill when I met Landis?”
At this his brother blinked, frowned, and shook his head. The point was apparently plain to him and wiped out his previous convictions. Also, it eased his mind.
“Then you don’t love the girl?”
“I?”
“Either way, my hands are cleared of the worry. If you want her, let me take Landis. If you don’t want her, what difference does it make to you except silly sentiment?”
Donnegan made no answer.
“If she comes to Lebrun’s house, I’ll see that Nell doesn’t bother him too much.”
“Can you control her? If she wants to see this fool can you keep her away, and if she goes to him can you control her smiling?”
“Certainly,” said Lord Nick, but he flushed heavily.
Donnegan smiled.
“She’s a devil of a girl,” admitted Henry Reardon. “But this is beside the point: which is, that you’re sticking on a matter that means everything to me, and which is only a secondhand interest to you—a point of sentiment. You pity the girl. What’s pity? Bah! I pity a dog in the street, but would I cross you, Garry, lad, to save the dog? Sentiment, I say, silly sentiment.”
Donnegan rose.
“It was a silly sentiment,” he said hoarsely, “that put me on the road following you, Henry. It was a silly sentiment that turned me into a wastrel, a wanderer, a man without a home and without friends.”
“It’s wrong to throw that in my face,” muttered Lord Nick.
“It is. And I’m sorry for it. But I want you to see that matters of sentiment may be matters of life and death with me.”
“Aye, if it were for you it would be different. I might see my way clear—but for a girl you have only a distant interest in—”
“It is a matter of whether or not her heart shall be broken.”
“Come, come. Let’s talk man talk. Besides, girls’ hearts don’t break in this country. You’re old-fashioned.”
“I tell you the question of her happiness is worth more than a dozen lives like yours and mine.”
There had been a gathering impatience in Lord Nick. Now he, also, leaped to his feet; a giant.
“Tell me in one word: You stick on this point?”
“In one word—yes!”
“Then you deny me, Garry. You set me aside for a silly purpose of your own—a matter that really doesn’t mean much to you. It shows me where I stand in your eyes—and nothing between the devil and the moon shall make me sidestep!”
They remained silent, staring at each other. Lord Nick stood with a flush of anger growing; Donnegan became whiter than ever, and he stiffened himself to his full height, which, in all who knew him well, was the danger signal.
“You take Landis?” he said softly.
“I do.”
“Not,” said Donnegan, “while I live!”
“You mean—” cried Lord Nick.
“I mean it!”
They had been swept back to the point at which that strangest of scenes began, but this time there was an added element—horror.
“You’d fight?”
“To the death, Henry!”
“Garry, if one of us should kill the other, he’d be cursed forever!”
“I know it.”
“And she’s worth even this?”
“A thousand times more! What are we? Dust in the wind; dust in the wind. But a woman like that is divine, Henry!”
Lord Nick swayed a little, setting himself in balance like an animal preparing for the leap.
“If it comes to the pinch, it is you who will die,” he said.
“You’ve no chance against me, Garry. And I swear to you that I won’t weaken. You prove that you don’t care for me. You put another above me. It’s my pride, my life, that you’d sacrifice to the whim of a girl!” His passion choked him.
“Are you ready?” said Donnegan.
“Yes!”
“Move first!”
“I have never formed the habit.”
“Nor I! You fool, take what little advantage you can, because it won’t help you in the end.”
“You shall see. I have a second sight, Henry, and it shows me you dead on the floor there, looking bigger than ever, and I see the gun smoking in my hand and my heart as dead as ashes! Oh, Henry, if there were only some other way!”
They were both pale now.
“Aye,” murmured Lord Nick, “if we could find a judge. My hand turns to lead when I think of fighting you, Garry.”
Perspiration stood on the face of Donnegan.
“Name a judge; I’ll abide by the decision.”
“Some man—”
“No, no. What man could understand me? A woman, Henry!”
“Nell Lebrun.”
“The girl who loves you? You want me to plead before her?”
“Put her on her honor and she’ll be as straight as a string with both of us.”
For a moment Donnegan considered, and at length: “She loves you, Henry. You have that advantage. You have only to let her know that this is a vital matter to you and she’ll speak as you wish her to speak.”
“Nonsense. You don’t know her. You’ve seen yourself that no man can control her absolutely.”
“Make a concession.”
“A thousand, Garry, dear boy, if they’ll get us clear from this horrible mess.”
“Only this. Leave The Corner for a few hours. Give me until—tonight. Let me see Nelly during that time. You’ve had years to work on her. I want only this time to put my own case before her.”
“Thank heaven that we’re coming to see light and a way out!”
“Aye, Henry.”
The big man wiped his forehead and sighed in his relief.
“A minute ago I was ready—but we’ll forget all this. What will you do? How will you persuade Nelly? I almost think that you intend to make love to her, Garry!”
The little man turned paler still.
“It is exactly what I intend,” he said quietly.
The brow of Lord Nick darkened solemnly, and then he forced a laugh.
“She’ll be afraid to turn me down, Garry. But try your own way.” He bit his lips. “Why, if you influence her that way—do it. What’s a fickle jade to me? Nothing!”
The Second Western Megapack Page 127