by Max Brand
“And leave me here?” she asked.
He flushed, stammered, and avoided her eyes.
“It doesn’t make any difference,” he muttered, “I couldn’t find my way out, and maybe they’d take a pot shot at me as I tried to get away. It’s better to die quick than starve in the mountains. But, my God, Jerry, what’ll he do when he finds out that I’m not an outlaw like himself?”
“Stop crying like a baby,” she said. “I’ve got to think.”
“There’s only one thing for you to do,” she said at last, raising her head, “and that’s for you to play your part as he sees it. You can act rough. Go down and mix with them — but be here with me when Black Jim is here. They can only kill you, Freddie, but me—”
Her eyes were roving again.
“Maybe I can do it,” he said rapidly, half to himself. “Pray God I can do it!”
CHAPTER V. THE STAGE MAN
HER UPPER LIP curled. “You’re in a blue funk — a blue funk,” she said. “Freddie, here’s your one chance in a life to play the man.
Do you see my condition? Do you see the little act that’s mapped out ahead for me? It’s as clear as the palm of your hand. He brought me up here because he thought I’d die if he left me in the road. Even his heart was not black enough for that! But once he had me here it wasn’t in his power to send me away again. That’s what he meant when he said he had talked to the ‘boys.’ They wouldn’t let me go because they thought I might be able to find the way back and bring a posse after them. Don’t you see? They have me a prisoner. And you’re all that I have to protect me.”
She stopped and moaned softly.
“Why was I ever born a woman?”
He moistened his lips.
“I’ll do what I can,” he mumbled, “but — did you see that devil’s eye? He isn’t human, Jerry!”
“I might have known,” she murmured to herself, “I might have known he was only a stage man.” She said aloud: “There’s one chance in a thousand left to me, Freddie, but there’s no chance at all unless you’ll help me. Will you?”
“All that I can — in reason,” he stammered miserably.
“It’s this,” she went on, trying to sweep him along with her. “You had your eyes open when you came up here. Maybe you could find the way out again. Freddie, you said on the road today that you loved me. Freddie, I’ll go to hell and slave for you as long as I live, if you’ll fight for me now. Tell me again that you love me and you’ll be a man!”
His lips were so stiff that he could hardly speak in answer.
“I didn’t tell you one thing,” he said. “When we came over the top of the lull, at the edge of the valley, we passed an armed man. They keep a sentry there.”
She pointed with frantic eagerness.
“You have your gun at your belt! That will free us, I tell you. “It is only one man you have to fight.”
He could not answer. His eyes wandered rapidly around the room like a boy already late for school and striving miserably to find his necessary book.
“Then if you won’t do that, cut the rope that holds my feet and I’ll go myself!” she cried. “I’ll go! I’d rather a thousand times die of starvation than wait for the time when the eyes of that fiend light up with hell-fire.”
“Black Jim,” he answered, and stopped.
She loosened her dress at the throat as if she stifled.
“For God’s sake, Freddie. You have a sister. I’ve seen her picture. For her sake!”
He was utterly white and striving to speak.
“He would know it was me who did it,” he said at last, “and then—”
Voices sounded far away. They listened with great eyes that stared at each other but saw only their own imaginings.
The voices drew closer.
“The door! The door!” she whispered. “Lock the door! They’re coming — the men he warned us about!”
He was frozen to the spot on which he stood.
“Hello!” called a voice from without.
“Montgomery!” she moaned, wringing her hands.
At last he walked hastily to the door.
“You can’t come in here,” he answered.
“Why the hell not?” roared one of them.
“Because of Black Jim.”
A silence followed.
“Is he in there?”
“No, but he wants no one else to come in while he’s gone.”
They parleyed.
“Shall we chance it?”
“Not me!”
“Why not?”
“Let’s see his woman.”
“Sure. Seein’ her doesn’t do no harm.”
“Who’s in there?”
“It’s the pal he brought up.”
“Are we goin’ to act like a bunch of short horns?” asked a deeper voice. “I’m goin’ in!”
A dozen men broke into the room. At the first stir of the door Jerry dropped prone to the blankets and feigned sleep. The crowd gathered first about Montgomery, searching him with curious eyes.
“Here’s the new lamb,” said a lithe white-faced man, and he grinned over yellow teeth. “Here’s another roped for the brandin’. Let pass on him now, boys!”
A chuckle which rang heavily on the heart of Montgomery ran around the circle, but though his soul was lead in him, his art came to his rescue. After all, this was merely a part to be played. It was a dangerous part, indeed, but with a little effort he should be able to pass before an uncritical audience. He leaned back against the wall and smiled at the group. It required every ounce of his courage to manage that smile.
“Look me over, boys,” he responded, “take a good long look, and in case you’re curious, maybe you’ll find something interesting on my right hip!”
He broke off the smile again. For one instant the scales hung in the balance. What he said might have been construed as a threat, but the smile took the sting out of his words. After all, a man who had been passed by Black Jim himself had some rights among them.
“You’re a cool one, all right,” grinned a man who was bearded like a Russian, with his shirt open, and a great black, hairy chest partially exposed, “but where’d you get that color? Been doing inside work?”
“Mac,” said Montgomery, easily, for the last remark gave him courage, “and some of the boys call me ‘Silent Mac.’ I’m a bit off color, all right. That’s because some legal gents got interested in me. They got so damned interested in me that they thought I shouldn’t be out in the sun so much. They thought maybe it was spoiling my complexion, see? They fixed a plant and sent me up the river to a little joint the government runs for restless people. Yep, I’ve just had a long rest cure, and now I’m ready for business!”
A low laugh of understanding ran around the group. A jailbird has standing in the shadow of the law.
“You’ll do, pal,” said the yellow-toothed one.
“You can enter the baby show, all right,” said another. “I’m the Doctor.”
“I’ve heard of you,” said Montgomery, as the crowd passed him to examine Jerry.
“Know anything about the calico?” asked one of Montgomery.
“Not a thing,” answered the latter carelessly, “except that Jim picked it off the stage.”
“And a damned bad job, too,” growled he of the beard. “Where’s he goin’ to fence her up in a corral like this?”
“Bad job your eye!” answered one who leaned far over to glance at her partially concealed face. “She’s a looker, boys — she’s a regular Cleopatra.”
They grouped closely around her.
“Wake her,” suggested one, “so’s we can size her up.”
One who stood closer stirred her rudely with his foot. She sat up yawning, rubbing her eyes, and smiled up to their faces.
“Turn me into a wall-eyed cayuse!” muttered one of them, but the others were silent while their eyes drank.
Montana Pete, with a mop of tawny hair falling low down on his forehead, dropped to a squatting positi
on, the better to look into her eyes.
“Well, baby blue-eyes,” he grinned, “what d’you think of your new pals?”
“Oh,” she cried, with a semblance of pretty confusion, “I — I — where am I? Oh, I remember!”
“Boys,” said Montana Pete rising, “we ain’t the kind to have a king, but I’m all for a queen! What?”
“Sure,” said the Doctor. “There ain’t nothing like the woman’s touch to make a home.”
They roared with laughter.
“Look out! She’s remembering some more and here comes the waterfall!” called another.
Jerry, in order to get time to plan her campaign, broke into heart-rending sobs. The bearded man, who rejoiced in the name of Porky Martin, now came forward again.
“Lemme take care of her,” he said. “I had two mothers, six sisters, an’ fourteen sweethearts. I know all about women!”
He dropped to one knee and put his arm around her.
“Take it easy, kid. You’re runnin’ loose now an’ we’ll give you all the rope you want, except enough for hangin’ yourself. Look around you, kid, here’s enough men to make a jury and you got a home with every one. Am I right, boys?”
“Let me — alone!” wailed Jerry, and she shuddered under the caress.
“Huh!” growled Porky Martin. “She’s proud, damn her.”
“Give her time, give her time,” said the Doctor. “The kid’s hurt. She don’t savvy yet, boys, that she’s in a real democracy where everything’s common property.”
“No more foolin’,” advised Montana Pete. “Jim’ll be coming back any time. He’ll sure be glad to find us here, I guess not.”
“Who’s Black Jim?” snarled Porky Martin. “I’ve stood for enough of his nutty ideas. I say to hell with Black Jim. We’ve had enough of him!”
“Say that to him,” said Montana easily. “I won’t hold your hands, Porky. Take it easy, kid “ — this to Jerry—” we ain’t all swine!”
“Wha’ d’ya mean?” said Porky in a rising voice.
Jerry trembled, for she knew that if the men began fighting over her, her fate was sealed.
“You ain’t deer, I reckon,” said Montana Pete, with obvious scorn.
“Let me go!” cried Jerry, not that she hoped for freedom, but because she thought there was some chance of changing the issue. “Let me go! I won’t tell about you! I swear I won’t!”
She extended her hands, one slender and white, and then the other in its ominously stained bandage, first to Porky Martin and them to Pete.
“Look at that,” said Pete. “We’re a fine gang to stand around makin’ life hell for the kid.”
He dropped to one knee beside her.
“We’ll give you a square deal, you lay to that, but we can’t let you go. There ain’t a hope of that, understand.”
She shrank against the wall, her sobs coming heavily at intervals.
“What I say is this,” orated Porky Martin. “What do you make out of Jim bringin’ in two people in one day — and one of them a woman?”
“Why, you poor fat head,” said the Doctor soothingly, “Mac over there was blockin’ one of Jim’s plays an’ to get him out of the way Jim took him up here. Anyway, Mac’s one of us. What’s bitin’ you? She was hurt. Besides, maybe Jim wanted that woman’s touch around his house.”
“Aye,” said Porky, “but there’s a lot more to be said about that. As far as I go I’m sick of this feller who stays away from the rest of us — never even gets drunk with us — and now he gets a woman!”
“Look out!” warned a voice, “I think—”
Several heads turned to the open door which framed Black Jim. His eyes ran slowly from face to face until they settled on Montgomery. The men stirred uneasily.
“I told you-all to keep these out,” he said calmly. By his contemptuous gesture he might have been referring to dogs of the street.
“They said you’d changed your mind,” explained Montgomery.
“I ain’t ever done that yet,” said the bandit. “Hope you’ve enjoyed yourselves, boys.”
“Look here,” said Porky Martin, blustering. “What we want to know is about the calico here — we—”
“I told you about her before,” said Black Jim softly, “and you sat around am’ hollered an’ said she was to stay here. It’s too late to get rid of her now. She’s seen us all. She could identify every one of us.”
“We ain’t askin’ you to send her off,” said Porky, “but as long as she’s goin’ to stay here we don’t see no nacheral reason why she has to hang around here in one cabin. We’re boostin’ for a lot of changes of scenery,”
“We?” asked Black Jim and he frowned.
“You heard me before, damn you!”
He was half crouched with the fighting fury in his face. The rest of the men moved quickly back, leaving an open space between the two. Porky’s hand tugged and writhed about the handle of his revolver as though he found difficulty in drawing it, but Black Jim made no movement toward his weapon. His soft, dark eyes dwelt without change on the face of his opponent. Jerry watched, utterly fascinated. She saw Montgomery staring in the background. The rest of the men stood closer to Porky, as if they sympathized with him, and their eyes were fixed with a sort of mute horror on Black Jim. An instinct told her that the moment he made a motion toward his revolver every gun in that room would be out and leveled at him. Yet when the strange sympathy troubled her throat, it was not for the bandit who faced the roomful of enemies, but for the crouched, tense figure of Porky Martin.
His big beard quivered. She saw his jaws stir. A strange, gurgling sound came in his throat, and yet he could not draw his revolver.
“My God!” breathed the Doctor.
It was as if some spell broke with his voice. A dozen breaths were audible in quick succession. Porky Martin drew a long pace back and half straightened. His hand left the butt of his revolver, and then both hands moved in slow jerks up toward his head. The gurgling rose louder in his throat. It formed into gasping words.
“Jim — don’t shoot — for God’s sake!”
The whole of that great body shook. A moment before he had been the most awe-inspiring of them all, and the center of Jerry’s fears.
“Hypnotism,” she murmured to herself, but she did not believe her own diagnosis.
“Take your hands down, Porky,” said Black Jim. “I ain’t asked you to put ’em up there.”
In spite of this permission, the big man’s arms remained as if fixed in air.
“Get out,” ordered Black Jim, and gestured toward the door.
Porky started side-wise, edging past Black Jim as if he feared to take his eyes off him. At the door he whirled and bolted suddenly into the dark. The order of the bandit had apparently been directed at Porky alone, but all the rest obeyed, each man moving silently, keeping his face with a religious earnestness toward Jim and his hand on his revolver until he came to the door through which each vanished with startling swiftness. They were all gone; Montgomery alone remained. Jim faced him.
“Get out,” said the bandit, “an’ tell the rest of ’em that there’s a deadline drawn at the edge of the trees. They can cross it when they get tired of livin’.”
Jerry made vain motions to him with lips and hands to stay and wondered why she dared not sneak out; but his eves were not for her. Like the rest he moved side-wise, and darted out into the night. Black Jim turned to Jerry and she set her teeth to make her glance cross his boldly. There was a subtle change of his expression. He jerked a hand toward the door.
“That last man,” he said, “did you really want him to stay?”
“Yes,” she said faintly, “I’m afraid!”
CHAPTER VI. GREEK MEETS GREEK
TO HER ASTONISHMENT he nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said, “they-all ain’t much more’n cattle.”
With that he disappeared into the next room. He came back at once bearing a bolstered revolver which he dropped beside her carelessly.
“They’re a rotten gang, all right,” he went on, “and that last man — why did you want him to stay?”
Under the direct question of his eyes, her own dropped till they fell upon the revolver-butt, significantly protruding from the holster.
“You don’t need to tell me,” he said gently, “I guess you thought you’d be safer with two. But that pale-faced one ain’t a man. He’s a skunk. I told him to keep ’em out.”
She did not answer. Her head remained bowed with wonder. Montgomery had been no protection to her. Even now there were twelve grim men who were twelve dangers to her. Yet in the presence of this man-queller, she felt unutterably safe. She glanced at her injured hand and smiled at her sense of security. Black Jim retreated. He came back with a great armful of logs.
Hunger and weariness fought like drugs against the stimulus of fear. She found herself drowsing as she stared into the growing blaze of flames. Her ear caught the chink, the rattle, and the hiss of cookery. Then she watched as through a haze the tall figure of Black Jim, swart against the fire. Through her exhaustion, her suffering, and her fear, that shadowy figure became the symbol of the protector.
He came before her again carrying a tin plate that bore a steaming venison steak flanked with big chunks of bread and a cup of black coffee. She tasted the coffee first and it cleared her mind, pumped strong blood through her body again.
Another woman would have roused to a paralyzing terror when her faculties returned; but now the strange schooling of Annie Kerrigan stood her in good stead. She was used to men, but she was not used to the fear of them. After all, what difference was there between this man and those she had known before? She had felt helpless indeed when the twelve filled the room. She had seen and she should never forget a certain flickering light of hunger in their eyes. They were dangerous, but that element of danger she did not see in Black Jim. Some men are dangerous to men alone. Others threaten all nature; born destroyers. She knew that Black Jim was of the first category. Nothing told her except a small inner voice that chanted courage to her heart. Consequently when the hot coffee gave her strength she sat erect, propping herself with her sound hand.