Three Books in One: A Covenant of Love, Gate of His Enemies, and Where Honor Dwells

by Gilbert, Morris

  Jake watched him silently, once again feeling uneasy about Vince’s bitterness. Then, with a sigh, he shook his head. Maybe he was just overreacting …. Vince spoke freely of his family, dwelling on each of them and stressing how they’d have to mind their manners when he took over. It was a side of the man that Jake didn’t admire, but he said nothing, as was his custom.

  The Lightning was refitted, and as it pulled away on the last leg of the journey to New Orleans, Jake was standing at the rail watching the shore. The purser came up behind him, saying, “Mr. Franklin, your clothes are ready. Shall I put them in your cabin?”

  Jake turned, and as soon as the purser saw his face, he said, “Oh, I thought you were Mr. Franklin!”

  “No, I’m Mr. Franklin.” Vince had come up behind the purser and was smiling.

  “Why, this gentleman is enough like you to be your twin, sir!”

  “He’s not nearly as handsome as I am,” Vince said, winking at Jake.

  But the purser shook his head stubbornly. “You two are as alike as can be. Why, I thought you were brothers the first time you came on board together.”

  Vince looked at Hardin speculatively. “Well, maybe we do favor each other a little.”

  “More than that!” the purser insisted. “If you shaved your beard off, you’d look exactly like your friend!”

  “Well, since my friend is a nice-looking chap, I can’t take offense. Now you can put my suit in my cabin.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As the purser left, Vince said with a smile, “How do you feel about that, Jake? Insulted, perhaps?”

  “Why, no.” Jake smiled. He studied Franklin’s face, and as he did so, surprise came to his eyes. “He’s right, you know! Your beard covers most of your face, but we’ve got the same features. Same brown eyes, same color hair—our noses are even shaped the same.”

  “I always heard that everybody has a double somewhere on earth, but I never expected to find mine,” Vince said. “Strange, though, that you and I would encounter each other as we did.”

  “One good thing about it,” Jake said, “we’re the same size, so I can wear your clothes. I was looking pretty ragged in my own outfit.” He looked down the river and went on, “We’ll be in New Orleans tomorrow, I’d venture. Then I can go to work and quit sponging off of you, Vince.”

  But Vince was not listening. He was studying Hardin’s face closely. “What? Oh yes, I suppose so … but we’ll stick together for a few days, until you can put a stake together.”

  “No longer than I can help, Vince,” Jake replied and shook his head. “Don’t like to be taking from you all the time.”

  “Well, you saved my life, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe not. That fellow would probably just have roughed you up a little.”

  “No, I’m in your debt, Jake.” He paused, about to say more, but changed his mind. “We’ll have lots of time to talk when we get to New Orleans.” He laughed softly, cocked his head as he studied Jake. “Funny thing, how we’ve gotten together. My sister, Rachel, would say God did it.”

  Jake raised his eyebrows. “She’s religious?”

  “Lord, yes! After me all the time to give up my wicked ways!”

  “Well, maybe she’s right, but I think it’s all luck.”

  “That’s the way a gambler would think, I suppose, but still … it’s strange. Gives me the creeps in a way! Well, we’ll talk about it later.” His eyes narrowed, and he said slowly, “I’ve got the fragment of an idea in my head. Might be a good one.”

  “I owe you, Vince. If you hadn’t staked me, I’d be done for. And if you hadn’t covered for me with that sheriff when we got on the boat, I’d either be in prison or hung.” Jake shrugged. “If I can do something for you, just name it.”

  “I may do that. I just may indeed!”

  New Orleans had always been one of Jake’s favorite cities, but caution made him say as he walked down the gangplank of the Lightning, “We’d better split up for a time.”

  “Why? I thought we were going to stay together for a while!”

  “We can meet, but there’s probably a wanted notice out for me. I’ll have to lay low for a while.”

  “Hadn’t thought of that,” Vince said slowly, then nodded.

  “I know just the place. Friend of mine owns a little place in the French Quarter. Got four or five nice rooms. He’ll keep his mouth shut, too.”

  “Well—”

  Vince waved his hand at a cab and half shoved Jake toward it. “Get in!” he ordered, then added to the driver, “French Quarter, driver. You know Tony’s place on St. Charles Street?”

  “Yas, sah! I does indeed!” The driver flicked his whip, and the team stepped out smartly. He drove from the wharf to the Quarter, then stopped in front of a two-story building on the narrow street. “Tony’s place, sah!”

  The two men got out of the cab, Vince paid the driver, and they went inside. Tony was a small Italian with a pair of sharp dark eyes, and soon he was leading the pair to the second floor. “Same room you had last time, Vince,” he said. “And the one next to it’s vacant. You gents make yourselves at home; then come on down and we’ll see what we can find to drink.”

  The rooms were small but well aired and light. A balcony framed with black wrought iron gave a good view of the street below, and during their stay, Jake spent a good deal of time looking down at the crowds that thronged the street. He went out twice, but on his second time he discovered that there was indeed a warrant out for his arrest. The thought of prison frightened him; he didn’t think he could keep his sanity if he were cooped up.

  Vince came and went but was always cheerful, saying, “Don’t give up, Jake, old boy! Something will turn up.”

  Finally, on the third day, the two of them stood on the balcony smoking cigars after the evening meal. For a time neither of them said anything. Finally Jake broke the silence. “I’ve got to get out of the country, Vince. If I stay here, I’ll be caught and hanged sooner or later. Either that or prison—and I’d rather have the rope.”

  Vince flicked the ashes from his cigar, seemingly caught in thought. “Hard for a man to hide, Jake. Mexico is pretty tough, too, unless a fellow has lots of cash.”

  “I’ll make out.”

  “Sure, you’re tough, Jake, but I’d like to see you leave with some money. A fellow can live like a king down in the Caribbean if he has just a little money. Nobody will come looking for you there.” He puffed three times on his cigar, then tossed it over the railing. “I’d like to help you get a good start, Jake.”

  “No, you’ve done enough for me, Vince. I can’t take anything more from you.”

  “Well, Jake, look at it this way—I need some help from you.”

  Jake said at once, “That’s different. What can I do, Vince?”

  “You know that will I told you about, the one that lays it out that I get the money when I’m twenty-five?”

  “Sure, I remember.”

  “Well, there’s one clause in it that says I don’t get the money unless I’m living at Lindwood.”

  Jake frowned. “I don’t see the problem.”

  “The problem, Jake, is a man named Simon Duvall. If I go back to Richmond, he’ll kill me.” He looked at Jake, saw that he had his attention, and rapidly sketched the thing out, concluding by saying, “So this fellow Duvall is a dead shot. I wouldn’t have a chance, Jake!”

  Hardin stared at Vince, then said, “Let me guess what you have in mind. You want me to kill this Duvall.”

  “That’s it,” Vince admitted readily. “It’s pretty simple. If I go back, I’m dead. If I don’t go back, I don’t get the money. Now here you are, dead broke and likely to stay that way. You can use a gun. It all adds up, Jake. You take Duvall out, and I put ten thousand dollars in your hand.” He shook his head, adding, “Think what a life you could have down south with ten thousand in your pocket!”

  Jake stood there watching the blue smoke from his cigar curl upward. He owed this man a lo
t, yet … there was something in the thing that went against his grain. Finally he tossed the cigar to the street, then said, “I don’t like it, Vince. Sure, I’ve used a gun once or twice—but it was always forced on me. I’m not a hired killer.”

  “I thought you wanted to help me, Jake! If I’d been caught hiding you, they’d have nailed me for it. Now I’m asking you to risk a little something to get me out of a jam. How about it?”

  “You’re putting me on the spot, Vince—but I’ll think about it.”

  “Sure!” Vince nodded. “You do that. We’ll talk about it later.”

  For two days neither man mentioned the matter, and finally Vince brought it up. They were sitting in Jake’s room drinking café au lait, when suddenly Vince said, “Jake, I was wrong to put you on the spot with my problem. You’re not a killer. I should have seen that.”

  “Vince, I feel rotten—!”

  “No,” Vince broke in. “I know you pretty well. You’re not the type to hide in a dark alley and shoot a man in the back.”

  Jake felt terrible, for he liked to pay his debts. “Maybe I can teach you to shoot,” he offered, knowing it was no use.

  “I can shoot straight enough.” Vince nodded, then smiled sadly as he added, “But can you teach me to look into a gun that’s aimed at me and not run? That’s my problem. I’m a coward.” He seemed to have no particular shame about admitting that. “Some men have courage; some don’t. It’s that simple. I just don’t have it and you do.”

  “Not sure that’s right.”

  “Well, anyway—” Vince broke off abruptly and stared blankly across the room. His brow wrinkled in thought, and he whistled softly and then laughed. “Jake, old fellow, I’m not brave, but I’m smart!” Reaching over, he slapped Jake on the shoulder, grinning broadly. “It’s so brilliant, only I could come up with it!”

  Jake gave him a curious look. “What’s in your head now, Vince?”

  “Why, it’s like this. You couldn’t kill a man in cold blood. But there’s another way.”

  “I don’t see it.”

  “Duvall loves to duel. He’s killed more than one man. So you take my place in the duel! Don’t you see it?”

  “You mean I go to Richmond and pick a quarrel with Duvall, and—”

  “No! No!” Excitement brightened Vince’s eyes, and he leaned forward and whispered, “You don’t have to do that. You take my place! Don’t you see?” He suddenly slapped his hands together, exclaiming, “Jake, remember what that purser on the boat did? He took you for me! We look that much alike.”

  “Wait a minute, Vince,” Jake protested. “We don’t look that much alike. I’d be spotted in a minute!”

  “No, you wouldn’t. First, you grow a beard. Then we have the duel at dawn, with almost no light. You’ll wear a cloak and a hat pulled down over your eyes. When it’s over, I hand you the money; you shave your beard and head south. It’s perfect, Jake!”

  Jake was a quick thinker, but he sat there confused by the suddenness of Vince’s plan. There was, he knew, something about the whole business he didn’t like, but two things kept rising in his mind: He needed a stake, and he owed Vince a lot. If it weren’t for Vince, he’d probably be in jail by now. Or dead.

  Vince sat there, letting Jake search the thing out in his mind; he was calculating enough to know that the more he tried to pressure the man, the less likely Jake was to respond. Finally he saw a break in Jake’s expression and said, “Of course, I’m asking you to lay your life on the line for me. And that’s too much for one man to ask of another.”

  “No, it’s not!” Suddenly the issue became very simple to Jake. “I’ll do it for you, Vince. I’d do it even without the money. Matter of fact,” he said thoughtfully, “I wish there were no money in it. I owe you, and the money means I’m doing it partly for that reason.”

  “No, that’s wrong,” Vince said quickly, a sense of exultation running through him. He was sure now that all his problems would be solved in one instant, and if Jake took the bullet instead of Duvall—well, that was the risk the man was taking. “You’re helping me as a friend with Duvall, and I’m helping you as a friend with money. So it’s settled?”

  “Yes. When do you want to go to Richmond?”

  “Have to let your beard grow first. That’ll take a month, I guess. We can have some fun in the meantime. I’ll tell you all about my family and the people you might run into.” The uncertainty that had been eating at Vince since he had left his home was gone, and he laughed loudly. “Now I can sleep better!”

  For a week the two of them stayed at Tony’s making plans. Actually, there was little to plan, but Vince spent hours telling Jake about his family and his friends—not to mention his enemies. Once he said, “I’m telling you all this like a good Catholic confesses to a priest, Jake. Maybe because I know it’s safe. A priest can’t tell anything he hears, can he? And I reckon you won’t either!”

  “No, I won’t tell, Vince.”

  As Vince had talked about his life, Jake had revised his opinion of the man. At first he had thought of Vince as rather a nice scoundrel, a charming sort of reprobate—but a picture emerged from what he heard that was less pleasant. He learned of Vince’s affairs with women, and while Jake was no prude, he disliked the way the man obviously thought of women as toys to be enjoyed and then cast aside. Vince’s hatred for his father and his family came out also, and though he painted them with black colors, Jake realized that it would have been hard for anyone, family or otherwise, no matter how good, to put up with Vincent Franklin.

  There seemed to be some sort of rotten streak in the man, and it was far worse than cowardice. Jake knew that if the two of them were together for long, they would have conflicts. Before long he began to think that it would have been better if he had left New Orleans without getting involved. More than once he toyed with the idea of running out, penniless as he was.

  But he stayed. Maybe Vince will do better when this Duvall character is taken care of, he thought. He knew it was merely a wishful dream, though, and the idea of killing a man grew heavier and heavier, like an ominous shadow. It had all sounded logical enough when Vince had explained it, but no matter how Jake tried to think of it, the fact remained that he was going to kill a man for money. He told himself that it was not murder and that he himself could get killed, but it all seemed a feeble excuse for taking a man’s life.

  Slowly he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t do it.

  Time ran along, and as Jake tried to find a way to tell Vince what he had decided, Vince continued to talk about his past. Finally one night Jake said, “You’ve told me so much about your family and friends, I swear I’d recognize them if they walked through that door!”

  “All right, Jake.” It was late, and Vince had been happy all day. “Won’t be long now, will it? I’ll be master of Lindwood and you’ll be living like a king down on a sunny island. Pretty soft, Jake, old boy!”

  “Pretty soft, Vince,” Jake answered absently. He sat there trying to find some way to put his decision to Vince, but he knew that no matter how he put it, Vince would not like it. Finally he said, “I’ve got something to tell you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well … I don’t like to go back on my word, but it’s just too raw for me, killing Duvall.” Jake saw anger spark at once in Vince’s eyes and added, “If it was anything else, I’d do it. But—”

  “That’s pretty small of you!” Vince broke his words off sharply. He pressed the point, trying to convince Jake. When that failed, he began to curse him. Finally he ran out of things to say and stood to his feet. “You’d better get out of here, Jake. I might forget myself and turn you in.”

  “You could do that, I guess.” Jake’s voice was quiet, resolved.

  Vince started to turn, then paused. With a sigh he shook his head, looking at Jake with a strange, defeated light in his eyes. “No, Jake, I reckon not.” He walked to the door, then stopped again. “I’ve waited all my life for the time when I�
��d be somebody,” he said in a low voice without turning around. “Maybe I should have lived better, been more ready to listen to my father or to Rachel.” Again he shook his head. “But it’s too late for that now. A man’s what he makes himself.” He turned to look at Jake, a bitter emptiness in his eyes. “I’ve heard you say the same thing,” he added almost sadly. “Men like you and me, we never change.”

  He turned, picked his coat up off Jake’s bed, and put it on. He started out of the room but paused, turning and saying evenly, “I’ll get somebody to put Duvall down, Jake. I’ll get the money and I’ll get Lindwood. But you know what? I don’t really think I’ll be happy when I get it. And I don’t think you’ll be happy on your little island or wherever you land.” A sadness such as Jake had never seen in the man came to his eyes. He looked small and even a little lost as he stood there.

  Then he summoned up a smile and said, “Well, we have to play what we’re dealt, don’t we, Jake?” Then he added so quietly that Jake almost missed it, “Somehow I think I knew all along you wouldn’t do it—you’re just not the type. But I’ve been thinking, if I’d been dealt a friend like you when I was younger, maybe I wouldn’t be the rotten way I am. The one thing I wish, though … I sometimes wish my family thought a little better of me.”

  Then he was gone. Jake made a move toward the door but stopped. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” he said aloud. He moved to the bed, picked up his coat, and started to hang it up. But something fell out of the pocket, and as he picked it up he saw that it was Vince’s wallet. Staring at it, he realized, Vince must have taken my coat by mistake. He took a step toward the door, then paused. I’ll give it to him tomorrow.

  Jake undressed slowly, thinking of how strangely Vince had behaved. The man’s sad words kept echoing in his mind: “I sometimes wish my family thought a little better of me.” Jake lay in bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. Restlessly he tossed until he finally dozed off, though his sleep was fitful and he still had flashing thoughts and short dreams. One of the thoughts grew, and he suddenly awakened with the idea fully developed. Getting out of bed, he stood in the middle of the room, thinking hard.