Delphi Collected Works of Max Brand US

by Max Brand

  She fumed and fretted under this treatment at first, and still attempted to follow out her original campaign of winning Black Jim to her side. In all respects she failed miserably. She attempted to read his books; the verse wearied her; the vulgarity of “Gil Blas” stopped her in twenty pages; she could not wade through the opening exchange of letters in “Redgauntlet.” Her mind turned back to Montgomery many times during the first ten days, but he never appeared and she quickly forgot him.

  Black Jim was never at home during the day. He either rode out on the roan or else he went off on foot and returned at night with game, so that they never lacked meat. Cooking, short walks through the trees, endless silences, these things occupied the mind of Annie Kerrigan.

  Yet she was not unhappy. She was of the nature which loves extremes, and to her own astonishment, growing every day, she discovered that the hush of the mountains filled her life even more than the clattering gaiety of the stage. Slight, murmuring sounds which would scarcely have reached her ear a month before, now came to her with meaning — the thousand faint stirs which never cease in the forest.

  Heretofore she had never had a thought which she did not speak. Now she learned the most profound wisdom of all when the mind speaks to itself and the voice is still.

  Whatever of the old restless activity remained in her found a vent in the ceaseless study of the bandit. She picked up a thousand clues little by little, but they all led in different directions. At the end of a month she felt that she was farther away from the truth than she had been at the first.

  All that she really knew was what he had told her. He lived above the law. She knew him well enough to see that he was not a criminal because of hate for other men, or even because he loved the thrill of his night riding. He simply avoided that other world of men because it was a world where life was constrained by a thousand rules.

  To her mind he was like a powerful and sinisterly beautiful beast of prey which hunts where it will through the forest, and when it is pressed in its haunts by man turns and strikes him down. She carried the animal metaphor still farther.

  She saw it in his singular silence, which was not reticence, but the speechlessness of a man to whom words are of no use. She saw it most of all in the singularly fathomless eyes. They never mocked her. They were simply veils through which she could not look.

  The face changes expression only because man lives among fellows, whom he wishes to read his emotions, his anger, his pleasure, his contempt. Therefore his features grow mobile.

  Black Jim lived alone. When he was with men and wished to express an emotion he did not pause to express his will in anything save action. At first, when the endless chatter of La Belle Geraldine disturbed him of an evening, he simply rose and left the cabin to walk (through the woods. It was long before she understood why.

  The clock which ticks out our lives in the cities of men had no place in his house. He rose in the morning early, because, like an animal again, he could not sleep after the light came. He felt no measuring of time by which to check and control his actions. He ate at any hour, now and then, once a day, often four times. Jerry fell into his habits through the strong force of a near example; the ticking of the clock no longer entered her consciousness, and in its place flowed the broad and tideless river of life.

  CHAPTER VIII. THE SIGN OF THE BEAST

  THE DEADLINE WHICH Black Jim said he had drawn around his cabin certainly had its effect, for never after the first day did she see one of the bandits. Now and again she caught the sound of distant firing when they practiced with their guns. Three or four times she heard drunken singing through the night as they held high festival. Otherwise she knew naught of them or their actions, though her mind retained the grim gallery of their portraits. The day would surely be when Black Jim should fail to return from one of his expeditions, and then —

  That day came. She waited till late at night, but he did not come. She could scarcely sleep, and when the morning came she sat in the cabin guessing at a thousand, horrors.

  A voice took up a song in the distance, and then came closer and closer. Jerry stood up and felt for her revolver with a nervous hand. The voice rose clearer and clearer. She could make out the words:

  “Julia, you are peculiar;

  Julia, you are queer.”

  Jerry dropped her hands on her hips and drew a long breath, partly of vexation and partly of relief.

  “It’s Freddie,” she muttered.

  “Truly, you are unruly,

  As a wild Western steer.

  Some day, when we marry,

  Dear one, you and I;

  Julia, you little mule, you,

  I’m going to rule you,

  Or die.”

  The song ended as the singer approached the edge of the open space before Black Jim’s cabin. Jerry stepped through the door to see Montgomery standing in the shadow of the trees.

  “Yea, Jerry!” he yelled. “Is the gunman around?”

  “He’s not here,” she answered. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything, Freddie.”

  “Oh, don’t I?” came the reply. “Didn’t he make this a deadline, La Belle? Suppose he should come back and find me on the other side of it? Not me, Jerry; I like life too well!”

  “Where’ve you been?” said Jerry, approaching him— “and what in the world have you been doing, Freddie?”

  For as she drew closer she found herself looking upon a Frederick Montgomery who, in voice alone, remained the man she had known. A vast stubble of black beard and whiskers, unshaven for full two weeks or more, obscured the fine outline of his features. His broad hat, pushed back from his forehead, allowed a mop of tangled hair to fall down almost to his eyes. Overalls, soiled and marred with wrinkles, a shirt torn savagely across the side, muddy boots, and the heavy revolver completed his equipment. Jerry was aghast!

  “What’s the matter, Jerry?” asked Montgomery. “Some hit, this costume; eh? It isn’t make-up, kid. It’s the real thing.”

  “And I suppose you’re the real thing under it?” said Jerry in deep disgust.

  “Sure,” said he, easily. “Stack all your chips and put ’em on me, kid. I’m the real stuff!”

  “Why haven’t you been around?” asked Jerry sharply, and bitter anger took her breath, “You knew I was left here at the mercy of Black Jim. And you haven’t done a thing to help me! Why?”

  “Why?” repeated the other, but not peculiarly embarrassed. “There’s a reason, kid. I’ve been too busy living.”

  “Too busy getting dirty, you mean,” snorted La Belle Geraldine. “Go make yourself decent and then come back if you want to talk with me! But if you’ve got dirt in your mind, Freddie, water won’t help you.”

  He growled deep in his throat and she stepped back a pace. She had never heard such an ominous sound from him before: now she scanned him more closely. It seemed to her that his eyes were sunken and shadowed significantly.

  “Don’t try that line on me any more, Jerry,” he answered, “You could get by in the old days, but it won’t do up here.”

  “Won’t it, deary?” asked Jerry, with a rather dangerous sweetness.

  “Not a hope, kid,” answered he, “I’m through with all that stuff. Down in the States a jane could pull that line now and then and get by with it, but up here, it’s a man’s country, and it’s up to you to sidestep when anything in pants comes along.”

  “As a man,” returned Jerry, yet for some reason she did not feel as brave as her words, “as a man, cutie, you come about as close to the real article as a makeup will let you. But I’m behind the scenes and it won’t quite do, Mr. Montgomery, it won’t quite do.”

  He scowled but he softened his tone as he answered.

  “Look here, Jerry,” he said, “I didn’t come here looking for a fight. Am I your friend or am I not?”

  “Do you remember how you backed out of the room when Black Jim simply looked at you, Freddie?” she asked gently.

  “Sure I do,” he g
rowled, “but you can’t hold that up against me, Jerry. There isn’t a man of the bunch that would take a chance face to face with Black Jim. He ain’t human, you ought to know that. The only difference between him and a tiger is that he uses a gun. He’s just—”

  “Cut it out, Freddie,” she broke in. “I’m tired of you already. Ring off. Hang up. You’re on the wrong wire.”

  “Say, kid,” he said with gravity, “Do I gather that you stand for that man-eater?”

  “Take it any way you like,” she said coldly.

  He laughed disagreeably.

  “Of course you don’t,” he went on, “You’re simply kidding me along. What if I could show you the way out of the valley tonight, Jerry?”

  She caught her breath.

  “The way out? Freddie! Are you playing me straight?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, with a trace of sullenness, “but this is my night on duty at the gap.”

  “Then I’m free!” she cried, “I’ll start as soon as it’s pitch dark and—”

  “Wait a minute,” he interrupted, “don’t run away with yourself. If you disappeared Black Jim would know I let you pass and when he found out that his—”

  “Stop there,” she said. “Freddie, what do you mean — do you think—”

  “Lay off on that, Jerry,” returned Montgomery. “You’re a swell dancer, but you can’t get away with heavy stuff like this. You’ve been all alone with him here, haven’t you?”

  She touched her hand to her forehead and wondered at its coldness in a vague way.

  “Why should I care?” she murmured, “Let him think what he will.”

  “But I’m still strong for you,” Montgomery was saying. “Don’t get white and scared, kid. I don’t hold it against you, much. What I say is, why not get rid of Black Jim? You can take him off his guard. Say the word and I’ll hang around at night and you can signal me when he’s asleep. Then I’ll come and do the work. It’d be a risky job, but for your sake, kid, I’d—”

  “You’ve said enough,” she answered, and then summoning her courage and fighting back her disgust, for here was her one chance to gain freedom. “If you’re afraid of him, why not go with me? What’s your idea? Do you really intend to stay here. Freddie, you haven’t become one of those swine!”

  He laughed heavily.

  “Swine?” he repeated; “Say, kid, did you ever see swine with this stuff hanging around in their hides?”

  He slid a hand into his hip pocket and brought it out again full of gold pieces of three denominations. He poured it deftly back and forth.

  “Take a slant at it, Jerry,” he said. “Listen to ’em click! One little job I pulled last week brought me this and about twice as much more. Easy? say, it’s a shame to take the coin. It’s like robbing the cradle. Do you think I’d leave this game even to go off with you, Jerry? Not till I’m blind, kid! Get wise! Say the word and we can pull a stunt on Black Jim that’ll give us the cabin and all the loot that’s stacked up in it.”

  His eyes glittered.

  “How much has he got stowed away in there, kid?”

  She retreated another pace. He was half a dozen yards away now.

  “I don’t know,” she murmured. Fear was growing in her, and horror with it. In a sudden desperation she held out her hand to him and cried: “Freddie what is it? You were pretty clean when you first came up here. What has changed you? What’s happened?”

  “What’s happened?” he asked, dully, as if he could not follow her meaning.

  “Yes, yes! Open your lungs — taste this air. Isn’t that enough in itself to make a man of you? And the scent of the evergreen, Freddie — and the nearness of the sky — and the whiteness of the stars—”

  “And the absence of the law, kid,” he broke in. “Don’t forget that. A man makes his own law up here, which means no law at all. We’re above it, that’s what we are. Stay here a little longer and you’ll get it, too!”

  She stared at him with great eyes while her mind moved quickly. She was beginning to understand, not the gross-minded brute which Frederick Montgomery had become, but the singular influence of the wild, free life. Of those other twelve and of Montgomery, the open license made animals. There was a difference between them and Black Jim. She had felt the touch of the animal in him, too, but in another manner. The others were like feeders on carrion; he was truly a great and fearless beast of prey. The solemn silences of the mountains imparted to him some of their own dignity. The mystery and the terror of the wilderness were his.

  “Above the law?” she said. “No, you’re beneath it. I wish — I wish I were a man for half a minute — to rid the world of you all!”

  She turned and fled back to the cabin.

  “Jerry! Oh, Jerry!” he shouted from the edge of the clearing where the deadline of Black Jim still held him.

  She turned at the door.

  “Have you made up your mind about it finally?”

  She shuddered so that she could not answer.

  “Then, by God, I’ll have you, if I have to get Black Jim first, and I’ll get his other loot when I get you!”

  He disappeared among the trees and she went back into the cabin, weak at heart, and filled now with a strange yearning for the return of Black Jim. The vultures, she felt, circled above the valley, waiting for her. He was the strong eagle which would put them to flight.

  Evening drew on. He did not come. Night settled black over the valley and the white stars brushed the great trees that fringed the cliffs. Still he did not come. The hearth fire remained unlighted. The damp cold of darkness numbed her hands and her heart. She waited, bowed and miserable. He was delayed, but delay to Black Jim could mean only death. No other force could take all this time for his return. This grew more certain in her mind as the hours passed. In that gloom every minute meant more than whole hours during the day.

  At last she made up her mind. Montgomery — not the light-hearted man she had known, but a hot-eyed beast — threatened her. Not he alone, but perhaps all of the other twelve were so many dangers. Now that Black Jim was gone she was helpless in their hands.

  By the next day they would know of his long absence and come for her — for her and for the rest of the loot, as Montgomery had said. She must get away from the valley that night. The sentinel was there, to be sure, but that sentinel was Montgomery and she felt that there was a fighting chance that she could pass him safely in the gap. If necessary she could fight, and perhaps she could handle a revolver as well as he. Perhaps she could surprise him. He would not look for the attempt and if she could get him under the aim of her revolver, she knew that he was not a hero.

  Once out of the gap there was an even chance for life. She might wander through the mountains until she starved to death. On the other hand she might find a road and follow it to town.

  She weighed the chances in her own practical way; rose from the stool; saw that her cartridge belt was well filled; strapped a canvas bag full of food on the other hip, and left the cabin.

  She kept as closely as possible to the center of the valley, for she felt that the habitation of the gang must lie close to the wall, on which side she could not know. As she approached the gap she went more and more slowly, for here the valley began to narrow rapidly, and the chance that she might encounter one of the twelve grew greater. At every step she feared a discovery, for it was impossible to guess what lay immediately before her. The valley floor was not only thick with great trees, but mighty boulders. They had evidently been split by erosion from the cliffs around and lay here and there, a perfect hiding place for a veritable army. The keen scent of wood-smoke reached her nostrils. She paused a moment, uncertain from which direction it came, for the air was still. Then she turned to the right and stole on with careful steps. Each crackling of a twig beneath her feet made her heart thunder.

  CHAPTER IX. JERRY DECIDES

  THE SCENT OF smoke grew fainter, ceased, and came again. A murmur like the sound of voices brought her to a dead hal
t to listen. She heard nothing further for a moment and went on again until a great stone, full forty feet in height, blocked her progress and she began to circle it. As she turned the corner of the boulder she stopped short, and dropped to the ground.

  The big stone and several smaller ones close to it lay in a rough circle, and in the center of the space smoked a pile of wood, which would soon break into flames. Already little crimson tongues of flames licked up along the edges, quivered, and went out, to be replaced by others. By the dim light of this rising fire, she made out shadowy figures one after another, nine in all, and she could not see all of the circle.

  “Start it yourself, Porky,” said a voice.

  A snatch of flame jerked up the side of the pile of wood and flickered a moment like a detached thing at the top. By that light she saw the big bearded fellow leaning against a rock just opposite her.

  “Not me,” he answered, “Mac will be back maybe. If he don’t come, I’ll start the ball rollin’. Gimme time.”

  The fear which made her drop to the ground still paralyzed Jerry, so that she heard these things as from a great distance. With all her heart she wished for the strength to creep back from the rock, but for the moment she had no strength. The clatter of a galloping horse drew up to the rocks and stopped. Montgomery entered the circle and threw himself down beside Porky. A general silence held the group. The fire flamed up and clearly showed the round of somber faces as they turned to Montgomery.

  New heart came to Jerry, for Montgomery had evidently abandoned his place in the gap and now the way of her flight lay clear. She rose cautiously from her prone position to her hands and knees and began to draw softly back.

  “Did he come through?” asked a voice.

  “Just passed me,” answered Montgomery, “and he was riding hard. The roan looked as if he’d covered a hundred miles today.”

  Jerry paused, all ears, and her heart leaped. They must mean that Black Jim had ridden through the pass. The black shadow of the rock concealed her perfectly and unless some one actually walked upon her, through the aperture between the two big boulders, there was practically no chance that they could discover her presence. Black Jim has returned, and now she connected his return to the valley, for some unknown reason, with this assemblage in the night. She could not forget the threat which Montgomery had made earlier in the day.