by Rex Beach
CHAPTER XIII
STARK TAKES A HAND IN THE GAME
The old man greeted the Lieutenant affably, but as his glance fell onhis daughter he stopped stock-still on the threshold.
"I told you never to wear that dress again," he said, in a dry, harshvoice.
The girl made no answer, for her heart was breaking, but turned andwent into her room. Burrell had an irresistible desire to tell Galethat he wanted his daughter for his wife; it would be an unwontedpleasure to startle this iron-gray old man and the shawled andshambling mummy of red, with the unwinking eyes that always remindedhim of two ox-heart cherries; but he had given Necia his promise. So hedescended to the exchange of ordinary topics, and inquired for news ofthe creek.
"Necia's ground is getting better every hour," the trader said."Yesterday they found a sixty-dollar pan."
"Have you struck pay on yours?"
"No; Poleon and I seem to hold bad hands. Some of his laymen arequitting work. They've cross-cut in half a dozen places and can't finda color."
"But surely they haven't fully prospected his claims yet; there must beplenty of room for a pay-streak somewhere, mustn't there?"
"It looks like he had drawn three blanks," said Gale, "although wecan't tell for sure. They're breaking most as bad for me, too; but I'vegot a new hunch, and I'm running up a dreen to catch bed-rock along theleft rim. I've got twenty men at work, and I'll know before long. Youheard about Runnion, of course?"
"Yes; the usual story--the bad men get the good mines, and the goodones get the hungry spots. Well, I might have been one of theunfortunates if I had staked for myself; but I hardly think so, I'mpretty lucky." He laughingly bade them good-night, content with himselfand at peace with the world.
Gale went to Necia's door and called her, but when she appeared he wasunprepared for the tragic face with which she greeted him.
"Daughter," he said, "don't feel bad over what I said; I didn't mean tobe cross with you, but--I don't like that dress."
"Were you cross with me, daddy?" she said, dully. "I didn't hear. Whatdid you say?"
He looked at her in amazement. "Necia, little girl, what is thetrouble?"
She was staring past him, and her fingers were fumbling helplessly withthe lace of her gown, but she began to show signs of collapse.
"I sent him away--I--gave him up, when he wanted me--wanted me--Oh,daddy! he wants to marry me--and I sent him away."
Alluna uttered a short, satisfied exclamation, and, looking at Galemeaningly, said:
"It is good. It is good. He is a stranger."
But the man disregarded her interruption.
"He asked you to marry him in--in--in spite of who you are and what Iam?"
"Yes; he is ready to give up his ambition, his army, his future, hisfamily, everything, for me--to sacrifice it all; and so, of course, Icouldn't let him." She spoke simply, as if her father would surelyunderstand and approve her action, while in her voice was a note ofinevitable resignation. "You see, I never understood what my bloodwould mean to him until to-night. I've been selfish and thoughtless, Iguess. I just wanted him, and wanted him to take me; but now that he ismine, I love him more than I thought. He is so dear to me that I can'tdrag him down--I can't--I can't!" She went to the open door and stoodleaning against the casing, facing the cool outer darkness, her facehidden from them, her form sagging wearily, as if the struggle hadsapped her whole strength.
Alluna crept to the trader and looked up at him eagerly, whispering:
"This will end in a little while, John. She is young. She can go backto the Mission to-morrow. She will soon forget."
"Forget! Do you think she can forget?"
"Any woman can forget. Only men remember."
"It is the red blood in you--lying. You know you lie."
"It is to save your life," she said.
"I know; but it's no use." To Necia he said; "You needn't worry, littledaughter." But her ears were deaf. "You needn't give him up, Isay--this will end all right."
Seeing that she gave no sign of heeding, he stepped closer, and swungher about till she faced him.
"Can't you trust me this one time? You always have before, Necia. I sayhe'll marry you, and it will all come out right."
She raised her hopeless eyes and strove gamely to meet his, then,failing, broke away, and turned back to the door. "I knew you couldn'tunderstand. I--I--oh, God, I love him so!" With a cry like that of awounded animal she fled out into the night, where she could give ventto her anguish unseen; for she had never wept before her father, butalways crept away and hid herself until her grief was spent. Gale wouldhave started after her, but Alluna dragged him back fiercely.
"No, no! It means your life, John. Let the secret die, and she willforget. She is so young. Time will cure her--time cures everything.Don't tell her--don't tell any one--and, above all, don't tell thatsoldier! He would not believe, nor would she. Even I have doubted!"
"You?"
"Yes, John. And if I don't believe, what is a stranger to say? No manknowing you would believe the tale--without proof. Suppose shedoubted--have you ever thought of that? Would you not rather have herdie still loving you than live and disbelieve?"
"Yes, yes! Of course, I--I've thought of that, but--Woman, you're worsethan a rattlesnake!"
"Even if he knew, he might not marry her. You at least are clean, andthat other man was a devil. A brave man's life is too great a price topay for a grief that will die in a year." Alluna was speaking swiftlyin her own language, her body tense, her face ablaze, and no man seeingher could ever again have called her people stolid.
"You think time will cure a love like that?" he said.
"Yes, yes!"
"That's all you know about it. Time may act that way perhaps in citiesand such places, but out in the hills it is different. When you've gotthe breath of the forest in you, I say it is different. Time--why, I'velived fifteen years in the open with a living memory. Every night I'vedreamed it over, every day I've lived it through; in every camp-fire Isee a face, and every wind from the south brings a voice to me. Everystormy night a girl with eyes like Necia's calls to me, and I have tofollow. Every patch of moonlight shows her smiling at me, just beyond,just in the shadow's edge. Love! Time! Why, Alluna, love is the onlything in the world that never dies, and time only makes it the moreenduring."
He took up the white slouch hat he had thrown down when he came in, andstepped to the door.
"Where are you going?" inquired the squaw, fearfully.
"To the barracks to give myself up!"
She flung herself at him with a great cry, and seized him about thewaist.
"You never loved me, John, but I have been a good woman to you,although I knew you were always thinking of her--and had no thought ofme. I have loved this girl because you loved her. I have hated yourenemies because you hated them, and now I remember while you forget."
"Forget! What do you mean?"
"Stark!"
The man paused. "I did almost forget him--and after fifteen years!"
"Let us kill him to-night; then we will go to the soldier together,side by side--I am your woman. Necia will look after the little ones."
Gale stared at her, and as he gazed the red pigment underneath herskin, the straight-hanging, mane-like hair, the gaudy shawl she neverwent without, the shapeless, skin-shod feet, the slovenly, ill-fittinggarb of a mis-cast woman vanished, and he saw her as she was on a daylong past, a slim, shy, silent creature, with great, watchful, trustingeyes and a soul unspoiled. No woman had ever been so loyal, souncomplaining. He had robbed her of her people and her gods. He hadshifted hither and yon at the call of his uncertain fortune, or at asign of that lurking fear that always dogged him, and she had neverleft his side, never questioned, never doubted, but always served himlike a slave, without asking for a part in that other love, withoutsharing in the caresses he had consecrated to a woman she had neverseen.
"By Heaven! You're game, Alluna, but there's a limit even to what I cantake from you,
" he said, at last. "I don't ever seem to have noticed itbefore, but there is. No! I've got to do this thing alone to-night, allof it, for you have no place in it, and I can't let the little girl goon like this. The sooner that soldier knows the better." He leaned downand touched her brown mouth with his grizzled lips. "Thank you, Alluna,for making a man of me when I'd nearly forgotten. Now you stay here."He knew he could count on her obedience, and so he left her. When hehad gone she drew the shawl up over her face and crouched in thedoorway, straining her eyes after him through the dark. In time shebegan to rock and sway, and then to chant, until the night moaned withthe death-song of her people.
Necia had no idea whither she went; her only thought was to flee fromher kin, who could not understand, to hide under cover in some solitaryplace, to let the darkness swallow her up, so that she might give wayto her grief and be just a poor, weak woman. So, with a dull and achingheart, she wandered, bareheaded, bare-necked, half-demented, and whollyoblivious to her surroundings, without sense of her incongruous attireor of the water that squeezed up through the soggy moss at her treadand soaked her frail slippers. On she stumbled blindly through the murklike some fair creature of light cast out and banished.
The night was cloudy and a wind came sighing from the north, tossingthe girl's hair and tugging at the careless folds of her dress, but sheheard nothing save the devil's tattoo that rang in her head, and feltnothing beyond the pain at throat and breast, which in time became sobitter that the tears were wrung from her dry eyes, and she began toweep in a pitiful woman fashion, as if her heart would burst. The firstdrops cleared a way for others, and soon she was sobbing freely, aloneand without solace, lost in the night.
She had not succeeded in thoroughly isolating herself, however, for aman who was steering his course by the sense of feel and the wind'sdirection heard her and paused. His steps were muffled in the softfooting, so that she had no warning of his presence until he was nearenough to distinguish her dimly where she leaned against the log wallof a half-completed cabin.
To his question, "What's the trouble here?" she made no answer, butmoved away, whereupon he detained her. "There's something wrong. Whoare you, anyhow?"
"It's only Necia, Mr. Stark," said the girl, at which he advanced andtook her by the arm.
"What ails you, child? What in the world are you doing here? Come! It'sonly a step to my cabin; you must come in and rest awhile, and you'llsoon be all right. Why, you'll break your neck in this darkness."
She hung back, but he compelled her to go with him in spite of herunwillingness.
"Now, now," he admonished, with unusual kindliness for him; "you knowyou're my little friend, and I can't let you go on this way; it'sscandalous. I won't stand for it. I like you too much."
In truth he had done things during these last few weeks to make herthink so, having never missed an opportunity to stop and pass a wordwith her, at the same time showing her a queer courtesy andconsideration quite foreign to his saturnine habits. She had nevermentioned the fact to her father or the others, for she had developed asort of sympathy for the man, and felt that she understood him betterthan they did.
He led her inside his cabin, and closed the door in the face of thenight wind before he struck a light.
"I can't stand to see you cry," he repeated, as he adjusted the wick."Now, as soon as--" He stopped in astonishment, for he had turned tobehold, instead of the little half-breed girl, this slender, sorrowfulstranger in her amazingly wonderful raiment.
"By--" He checked himself insensibly, and stood motionless for a longtime, while she wiped her eyes and, woman-like, straightened out hergown and smoothed her hair with little feminine touches.
"I--I--hope you'll excuse me for acting this way," she smiled at him,piteously; then, observing his strange features, "Why, what is thematter, Mr. Stark; are you angry?"
His hawklike face was strained and colorless, his black eyes fierce andeager, his body bent as if to pounce upon a victim. In truth he was nowthe predatory animal.
"No," he replied, as if her question carried no meaning; then, comingto himself, "No--no! of course not, but--you gave me a start. Youreminded me of some one. How do you come to be dressed like that? Inever knew you had such clothes?"
"Poleon brought them from Dawson; they are the first I ever had."
He shook his head in a slow, puzzled fashion.
"You look just like a white girl--I mean--I don't know what I mean."This time he roused himself fully, the effort being more like a shudder.
"So I have always thought," she said, and her eyes filled again.
"Your skin is like milk beneath your tan, and--I don't mean anydisrespect, but--Well, I'm just so damned surprised! Come over here andsit down while I mix you something to put the heart back into you."
He shoved forward a big chair with a wolf-skin flung over it, intowhich she sank dejectedly, while he stepped to the shelves beside theYukon stove and took down a bottle and some glasses. She glanced aboutwith faint curiosity, but the interior of the cabin showed nothing outof the ordinary, consisting as it did of one room with a cot in thecorner, upon which were tumbled blankets, and above which was a row ofpegs. Opposite was a sheet-iron box-stove supported knee-high on atin-capped framework of wood, and in the centre a table with oil-clothcover. Around the walls were some cooking utensils, a few cases ofcanned goods, and clothes hanging in a row.
"I'm not fixed up very well yet," he apologized; "I've been too busy atthe saloon to waste time on living quarters. But it's comfortableenough for an old roadster like me, for I've bruised around thefrontier so long that I've learned there's only three things necessaryto a man's comfort--warm clothes, a full stomach, and a dry place tosleep. All the rest that goes to make a man content he has inside him,and I'm not the kind to be satisfied, no matter where I am or what Ihave. I never was that kind, so I just don't make the attempt."
He was talking to give her leeway, and when he had concocted a weaktoddy, insisted that she must drink it, which she did listlessly, whilehe rambled on.
"I've noticed a few things in my life, Miss Necia, and one of them isthat it often does a heap of good to let out and talk things over; notthat a fellow gains any real advantage from disseminating his troubles,but it serves to sort of ease his mind. Folks don't often come to mefor advice or sympathy. I don't have it to give, but maybe it will helpyou to tell me what caused this night-marauding expedition of yours."Seeing that she hesitated, he went on: "I suppose there's a lot ofreasons why you shouldn't confide in me--I don't like that old man ofyours, nor any of your friends; but maybe that's why I'm interested. Ifany of them has upset you, I'll take particular pleasure in helping youget even."
"I don't want to get even, and there is nothing to tell," said Necia,"except a girl's troubles, and I can't talk about them." She smiled apainful, crooked smile at him.
"Your old man has been rough to you?"
"No, no! Nothing of that sort."
"Then it's that soldier?" he quizzed, shrewdly. "I knew you cared aheap for him. Don't he love you?"
"Yes! That's the trouble; and he wants to many me; he swears he will inspite of everything."
"See here! I don't quite follow. I thought you liked him--he's the kindmost women go daffy over."
"Like him!" The girl trembled with emotion. "Like him! Why--why, Iwould do anything to make him happy."
"I guess I must be kind of dull," Stark said, perplexedly.
"Don't you see? I've got to give him up--I'm a squaw."
"Squaw hell! With those shoulders?"
Stark checked himself, for he found he was rejoicing in his enemy'sdefeat, and was in danger of betraying himself to the girl. In everyencounter the young man had bested him, and these petty defeats hadcrystallized his antipathy to Burrell into a hatred so strong that hehad begun to lie awake nights planning a systematic quarrel. For he wasthe kind of man who throve upon contentions: so warped in soul thatwhen no man offered him offence he brooded over fancied wrongs andconjured up a cause for enmit
y, goading himself into that sour, sullenhabit of mind that made him a dread and a menace to all who lacked hisfavor. His path was strewn from the border North with the husks offierce brawls, and he bore the ineradicable mark of the killer,carrying always in his brain those scars that hate had seared. In hiseyes forever slumbered a flame waiting to be blown to life, and whenembroiled in feuds or bickerings a custom had grown upon him to fightthese fights in secret many times, until of nights he would lie insolitary darkness writhing in spirit as he hounded his man todesperation, or forced him into a corner where he might slake histhirsty vengeance. After such black, sleepless hours he dragged himselffrom his battle-grounds of fancy, worn and weary, and the daylightdiscovered him more saturnine and moody, more menacing than ever.
He had brooded over his quarrel with Gale and the Lieutenant ever sincetheir first clash, for in this place they furnished the only objectsupon which his mania could work--and it was a mania, the derangement ofa diseased, distorted mind. His regard for Necia was a careless whim, arather aimless, satisfying hobby, not at all serious, entirelyextraneous to his every-day life, and interesting only from itsaimlessness, being as near to an unselfish and decent motive as the manhad ever come. But it was not of sufficient consequence to stand outagainst or swerve the course of a quarrel; wherefore, he was gladdenedby the news of Burrell's discomfiture.
"So you like him too much to stand in his way," he said, meditatively."How does your father look at it?"
"He wants the Lieutenant to marry me. He says he will fix it up allright; but he doesn't understand. How could he?"
"You are doing just right," concurred the man, hypocritically, "andyou'll live to be glad you stood out." Now that both his enemiesdesired this thing, he was set on preventing it, regardless of thegirl. "How did the Lieutenant take it when you refused him?"
"He wouldn't take it at all. He only laughed and declared he wouldmarry me, anyhow." The very thought thrilled her.
"Does he knew you love him?"
The tender, sobbing laugh she gave was ample answer.
"Well, what's your plan?"
"I--I--I don't know. I am so torn and twisted with it all that I can'tplan, but I have thought I--ought--to go--away."
"Good!" he said, quickly, but his acquiescence, instead of soothingher, had the contrary effect, and she burst out impulsively:
"Oh--I can't--I can't! I can't go away and never see him! I can't doit! I want to stay where he is!" She had been holding herself instubbornly, but at last gave way with reckless abandon. "Why wasn't Iborn white like other girls? I've never felt like an Indian. I'vealways dreamed and fancied I was different, and I am, in my soul--Iknow I am! The white is so strong in me that it has killed the red, andI'm one of father's people. I'm not like the other two; they are brownand silent, and as cold as little toads; but I'm white and full oflife, all over. They never see the men and women that I see in mydreams. They never have my visions of the beautiful snow-white mother,with the tender mouth and the sad eyes that always smile at me."
"You have visions of such things, eh?"
"Yes, but I came a generation late, that's all, and I've got that otherwoman's soul. I'm not a half-breed--I'm not me at all. I'mMerridy--Merridy! That's who I am."
Her face was turned away from him, so that she did not notice thefrightful effect her words had upon Stark.
"Where did you get--that name?" His voice was pitched in a differentkey now. Then, after a moment, he added, "From the story I told you atthe mine that night, I suppose?"
"Oh no," she answered. "I've always had it, though they call me Necia.Merridy was my father's mother. I guess I'm like her in many ways, forI often imagine she is a part of me, that her spirit is mine. It's theonly way I can account for the sights I see."
"Your father's mother?" he said, mechanically. "That's queer." Heseemed to be trying to shake himself free from something. "It'sheredity, I suppose. You have visions of a white woman, a woman namedMerridy, eh?" Suddenly his manner changed, and he spoke so roughly thatshe looked at him in vague alarm.
"How do you know? How do you know she was his mother?"
"He told me so--"
Stark snarled. "He lied!"
"I can show you her wedding-ring--I've always worn it." She fumbled forthe chain about her neck, but it eluded her trembling fingers. "It hasher name in it--'From Dan to Merridy.'"
Stark's hand darted forward and tore the thing from her shoulders, thenhe thrust it under the lamp and glared at the inscription, while hisfingers shook so that he could barely distinguish the words. His eyeswere blazing and his face livid.
Necia cried out, but he dropped the ornament and seized her fiercely,lifting her from the chair to her feet; then, with one swift, downwardclutch, he laid hold of her dress at the left shoulder and ripped ithalf to her waist. A hoarse sound came from his throat, a cry half ofamazement, half of triumph.
"Let me go! Let me go!" She struggled to free herself, but he held herin a viselike grip, while he peered closely at a blemish well down uponher back. Then he let her slip from his grasp, and, seized with terror,she staggered away from him. He was leaning heavily with both handsupon the table, his face working, his head drawn down between hisshoulders, his thin lips grinning, his whole manner so terrifying thatshe shrank back till she brought up against the bark walls. She turnedand made for the door, whereupon he straightened up and said, in aqueer, commanding voice:
"Wait--don't go! I--I--you--" He licked his lips as if they were dustdry, passed an uncertain hand across his beaded brow, and, raising thewater-pail beside the door to his mouth, drank heavily in great, noisygulps.
"Let me out of here!" the girl demanded, imperiously.
"Don't be scared," he said, more quietly now. "You must excuse me.You--you gave me an awful fright. Yes--that was it. Don't worry. Ididn't mean any harm."
"You hurt my shoulder," she said, almost ready to cry. "And you tore mydress," she added, angrily--"my fine dress. Are you crazy?"
"You see, it's like this, that name of Merridy and that ring--well, thewhole thing was so startling, I--I went off my head. It came sudden,and I thought--I thought--it don't matter what I thought, but I'msorry. I'll apologize--and I'll get you a new dress, a whole lot ofdresses, if you like." This seemed to amuse him, and he began to laughsilently.
His first impulse had been to tell her everything, but his amazementhad rendered him speechless, and now he was thankful for it. Followinghis discovery of her identity, he had been stricken dumb, staring ather like one demented; then, as he was about to explain, his mindsuddenly grasped the significance of this revelation and the advantageit gave him over his enemies; a plan began to unfold, vague at first,its details not worked out, but a plan whereby he could by keepingsilent use this knowledge to serve his vengeful ends. In an instant hisvision cleared and his brain became active and alert, like that of aman brought suddenly under the stimulus of strong liquor. Care must beexercised--she must not learn too much--for if she suspected the truthshe would go to her soldier lover at once, and no power on earth couldhold her back. That would block the vengeance that he saw shaping inthe dank recesses of his distorted brain.
First, and above all, he must get the girl away from Flambeau.
"I went clear off my head," he heard himself saying, "at that name ofMerridy, that ring, and all. Why--why, I thought you might be themissing girl I told you of--you remember, that day up on Lee'sCreek--so I had to see; but, dear me, I should have been moreconsiderate--I should have explained. The trouble is I'm a nervous man,and I get impulsive streaks on me sometimes that I can't control. I'msorry I spoiled your dress, but I'll get you another--you bet I will."
This explanation of his strange behavior seemed plausible enough tobanish all personal fears from Necia's mind. Indeed, Stark had nowbecome so gentle and apologetic in his demeanor that her woman'scuriosity overcame her instinct to flee, and she ventured the question:
"So you really thought I was that other girl?"
"I did for a minute.
The mother was a--a--friend of mine, and so--Ilost my head. But I'm all right now, and if you'll overlook myroughness we'll go back to your troubles."
These last few moments had driven her own worries from her mind, but hewas bent on recalling them, and so continued, cautiously:
"You were saying that you thought you'd go away. I think that's a goodplan, and you'd be wise to do it for more reasons than one. It willgive you time to think it all over and know your own mind--"
"I know my mind now, and yet--I don't want to go away."
"--and it will give Burrell a chance to prove himself. He'll eithershow that he has got to have you at any cost, or that you are right inyour decision. If the first should happen, you can come back to him; ifthe last--why, it will be better for you, anyhow. As long as you stayhere neither one of you can see clearly."
She was touched by his interest, and realized the force of hisargument, which, strange to say, seemed to second her own thoughts; yetshe hesitated.
"I want to help you--I'm going to help you--because I've got aninterest in you like you were mine." Again he betrayed that strange,mirthless amusement.
"There is no place for me to go," said Necia, blankly, "except theMission, and I have no way of getting there."
"Don't you worry. I'll furnish the means, and you'd better goto-night"--she flinched--"yes, to-night; there's no use prolonging youragony. I'll get a boat ready and send a trusty man with you. Thecurrent is swift, and if he rows well you can make it by to-morrowevening. That's only one night out, and I'll put some blankets aboardso you can wrap up and have a sleep."
"I feel as if I'd never sleep again," she sighed.
"Now, now, this will come out all right yet. I'd take you down theremyself, but I've got to stay here. I've got work to do. Yes, I've suregot work of importance ahead of me."
"I must go back and get some clothes," she said, At which he would havedemurred had he not seen that she could not travel in her presentcondition.
"Very well. But don't let anybody see you."
"Of course not."
"It's getting late, and your folks will be abed." He looked at hiswatch. "Midnight! Be here in an hour, and I'll have the skiff ready."
The light of sacrifice was in Necia's eyes, and her cheeks wereblanched with the pallor of a great resolution. She did not stop toreason why or how she had been led to this disposal of her future, butclutched desperately at Stark's plan of rescue from her agonizingpredicament.
"I'll be here in an hour," she said, simply.
He let her out, closed the door after her, and locked it; then, drawinga deep breath, he raised his clenched hands above his head, and gave agreat sigh of exultation. Next he took out his six-shooter and examinedit carefully. The shells did not suit him, so he filled the gun withnew ones, loosened the three lower buttons of his vest, and slid theweapon inside his trousers band; then, facing the direction of Gale'strading-post, he spoke aloud.
"I was a long time coming, Gaylord, but I'm here, and I've got youwhere I've wanted you these fifteen years--yes, and I've got you, too,Burrell! By God, this is my night!"
His lithe body became panther-like in poise, his bearing that of themeat-eating animal, and his face set in a fierce, exultant cruelty ashe blew out his light and left the cabin.