by Rex Beach
CHAPTER XVI
JOHN GALE'S HOUR
It was a heathenish time of night to arouse the girl, thought Burrell,as he left the barracks, but he must allay these fears that werebesetting him, he must see Necia at once. The low, drifting cloudsobscured what star-glow there was in the heavens, and he stepped backto light a lantern. By its light he looked at his watch and exclaimed,then held it to his ear. Five hours had passed since he left Gale'shouse. Well, the call was urgent, and Necia would understand hisanxiety.
A few moments later he stood above the squaw, who crouched on thetrader's doorstep, wailing her death song into the night. He could notcheck her; she paid no heed to him, but only rocked and moaned andchanted that strange, weird song which somehow gave strength to hisfears.
"What's wrong; where is Necia? Where is she?" he demanded, and at lastseized her roughly, facing her to the light, but Alluna only blinkedowlishly at his lantern and shook her head.
"Gone away," she finally informed him, and began to weave again in herdespair, but he held her fiercely.
"Where has she gone? When did she go?" He shook her to quicken herreply.
"I don' know. I don' know. Long time she's gone now." She trailed offinto Indian words he could not comprehend, so he pushed past her intothe house to see for himself, and without knocking flung Necia's dooropen and stepped into her chamber. Before he had swept the unfamiliarroom with his eyes he knew that she had indeed gone, and gonehurriedly, for the signs of disorder betrayed a reckless haste. Hangingacross the back of a chair was what had once been the wondrous dress,Poleon's gift, now a damp and draggled ruin, and on the floor were twosodden satin slippers and a pair of wet silk stockings. He picked upthe lace gown and saw that it was torn from shoulder to waist. Whatinsanity had possessed the girl to rip her garment thus?
"She take her 'nother dress; the one I make las' summer," said Alluna,who had followed him in and stood staring as he stared.
"When did she go, Alluna? For God's sake, what does this mean?"
"I don' know! She come and she go, and I don' see her; mebbe three,four hour ago."
"Where's Gale? He'll know. He's gone after her, eh?"
The upward glow of the lantern heightened the young man's pallor, andagain the squaw broke into her sad lament.
"John Gale--he's gone away with the knife of my father. I am afraid--Iam afraid."
Burrell forced himself to speak calmly; this was no time to let hiswits stampede.
"How long ago?"
"Long time."
"Did he come back here just now?"
"No; he went to the jail-house, and he would not let me follow. He don'come back no more."
This was confusing, and Meade cried, angrily:
"Why didn't you give the alarm? Why didn't you come to me instead ofyelling your lungs out around the house?"
"He told me to wait," she said, simply.
"Go find Poleon, quick."
"He told me to wait," she repeated, stoically, and Burrell knew he waspowerless to move her. He saw the image of a great terror in thewoman's face. The night suddenly became heavy with the hint ofunspeakable things, and he grew fearful, suspecting now that Gale hadtold him but a part of his story, that all the time he knew Stark'sidentity, and that his quarry was at hand, ready for the kill; or, ifnot, he had learned enough while standing behind that partition. Wherewas he now? Where was Necia? What part did she play in this? Stark'sparting words struck Burrell again like a blow. This life-long feud wasdrawing swiftly to some tragic culmination, and somewhere out in thedarkness those two strong, hate-filled men were settling their scores.All at once a fear for the trader's life came upon the young man, andhe realized that a great bond held them together. He could not thinkclearly, because of the dread thing that gripped him at thought ofNecia. Was he to lose her, after all? He gave up trying to think, andfled for Stark's saloon, reasoning that where one was the other must benear, and there would surely be some word of Necia. He burst throughthe door; a quick glance over the place showed it empty of those hesought, but, spying Poleon Doret, he dragged him outside, inquiringbreathlessly:
"Have you seen Gale?"
"Have you seen Stark? Has he been about?"
"Yes, wan hour, mebbe two hour ago. W'y? Wat for you ask?"
"There's the devil to pay. Those two have come together, and Necia isgone."
"Necia gone?" the Canadian jerked out. "Wat you mean by dat? Were she'sgone to?"
"I don't know--nobody knows. God! I'm shaking like a leaf."
"Bah! She's feel purty bad! She's go out by herse'f. Dat's all right."
"I tell you something has happened to her; there's hell to pay. I foundher clothes at the house torn to ribbons and all muddy and wet."
Poleon cried out at this.
"We've got to find her and Gale, and we haven't a minute to lose. I'mafraid we're too late as it is. I wish it was daylight. Damn thedarkness, anyhow! It makes it ten times harder."
His incoherence alarmed his listener more than his words.
"Were have you look?"
"I've been to the house, but Alluna is crazy, and says Gale has gone tokill Stark, as near as I can make out. Both of them were at my quartersto-night, and I'm afraid the squaw is right."
"But w'ere is Necia?"
"We don't know; maybe Stark has got her."
The Frenchman cursed horribly. "Have you try hees cabane?"
"No."
Without answer the Frenchman darted away, and the Lieutenant sped afterhim through the deserted rows of log-houses.
"Ha! Dere's light," snarled Doret, over his shoulder, as they nearedtheir goal.
"Be careful," panted Burrell. "Wait! Don't knock." He forced Poleon topause. "Let's find out who's inside. Remember, we're working blind."
He gripped his companion's arm with fingers of steel, and together theycrept up to the door, but even before they had gained it they heard avoice within. It was Stark's. The walls of the house were ofmoss-chinked logs that deadened every sound, but the door itself was ofthin, whip-sawed pine boards with ample cracks at top and bottom, and,the room being of small dimensions, they heard plainly. The Lieutenantleaned forward, then with difficulty smothered an exclamation, for heheard another voice now--the voice of John Gale. The words came to himmuffled but distinct, and he raised his hand to knock, when, suddenlyarrested, he seized Poleon and forced him to his knees, hissing intohis ear:
"Listen! Listen! For God's sake, listen!"
For the first time in his tempestuous life Ben Stark lost the ironcomposure that had made his name a by-word in the West, and at sight ofhis bitterest enemy seated in the dark of his own house waiting for himhe became an ordinary, nervous, frightened man faced by a great peril.It was the utter unexpectedness of the thing that shook him, and beforehe could regain his balance Gale spoke:
"I've come to settle, Bennett."
"What are you doing here?" the gambler stammered.
"I was up at the soldier's place just now and heard you. I didn't wantany interruptions, so I came here where we can be alone." He paused,and, when Stark made no answer, continued, "Well, let's get at it." Butstill the other made no move. "You've had all the best of it for twentyyears," Gale went on, in his level voice, "but to-night I get even. ByGod! I've lived for this."
"That shot in Lee's cabin?" recalled Stark, with the light of a newunderstanding. "You knew me then?"
"Yes."
Stark took a deep breath. "What a damned fool I've been!"
"Your devil's magic saved you that time, but it won't stop this." Thetrader rose slowly with the knife in his hand.
"You'll hang for this!" said the gambler, unsteadily, at which Gale'sface blazed.
"Ha!" exclaimed the trader, exultingly; "you can feel it in your gutsalready, eh?"
With an effort Stark began to assemble his wits as the trader continued:
"You saddled your dirty work on me, Ben Stark, and I've carried it forfifteen years; but to-night I put you out the way you put her out.
Aneye for an eye!"
"I didn't kill her," said the man.
"Don't lie. This isn't a grand jury. We're all alone."
"I didn't kill her."
"So? The yellow is showing up at last. I knew you were a coward, but Ididn't think you'd be afraid to own it to yourself. That thing musthave lived with you."
"Look here," said Stark, curiously, "do you really think I killedMerridy?"
"I know it. A man who would strike a woman would kill her--if he hadthe nerve."
Stark had now mastered himself, and smiled.
"My hate worked better than I thought. Well, well, that made it hardfor you, didn't it?" he chuckled. "I supposed, of course, you knew--"
"Knew?" Gale's face showed emotion for the first time. "Knew what--?"His hands were quivering slightly.
"She killed herself."
"So help you God?"
"So help me God!"
There was a long pause.
"Why?"
"Say, it's kind of funny our standing here talking about that thing,isn't it? Well, if you want to know, I came home early that night--Iguess you hadn't been gone two hours--and the surprise did it, morethan anything else, I suppose--she hadn't prepared a story. I gotsuspicious, named you at random, and hit the nail on the head. Shebroke down, thought I knew more than I did, and--and then there washell to pay."
"Go on."
"I suppose I talked bad and made threats--I was crazy over you--tillshe must have thought I meant to kill her, but I didn't. No. I neverwas quite that bad. Anyhow, she did it herself."
Gale's face was like chalk, and his voice sounded thin and dry as hesaid:
"You beat her, that's why she did it."
Stark made no answer.
"The papers said the room showed a struggle."
When the other still kept silent, Gale insisted:
"Didn't you?"
At this Stark flamed up defiantly.
"Well, I guess I had cause enough. No woman except her was ever untrueto me--wife or sweetheart."
"You didn't really think--?"
"Think hell! I thought so then, and I think so now. She denied it,but--"
"And you knew her so well, too. I guess you've had some bad nightsyourself, Bennett, with that always on your mind--"
"I swore I'd have you--"
"--and so you put her blood on my head, and made me an outlaw." Afteran instant: "Why did you tell me this, anyhow?"
"It's our last talk, and I wanted you to know how well my hate worked."
"Well, I guess that's all," said Gale. So far they had watched eachother with unwavering, unblinking eyes, straining at the leash and tautin every nerve. Now, however, the trader's fingers tightened on theknife-handle, and his knuckles whitened with the grip, at which Stark'sright hand swept to his waist, and simultaneously Gale lunged acrossthe table. His blade nickered in the light, and a gun spoke,once--twice--again and again. A cry arose outside the cabin, then someheavy thing crashed in through the door, bringing light with it, forwith his first leap Gale had carried the lamp and the table with him,and the two had clenched in the dark.
Burrell had waited an instant too long, for the men's voices had heldso steady, their words had been so vital, that the finish found himunprepared, but, thrusting the lantern into Poleon's hand, he hadbacked off a pace and hurled himself at the door. He had learned theknack of bunching his weight in football days, and the barrier burstand splintered before him. He fell to his knees inside, and an instantlater found himself wrestling for his life between two raging beasts.The Lieutenant knew Doret must have entered too, though he could notsee him, for the lantern shed a sickly gloom over the chaos. He waslocked desperately with John Gale, who flung him about and handled himlike a child, fighting like an old gray wolf, hoary with years andterrible in his rage. Burrell had never been so battered and harriedand torn; only for the lantern's light Gale would doubtless havesheathed his weapon in his new assailant, but the more fiercely thetrader struggled, the more tenaciously the soldier clung. As it was,Gale carried the Lieutenant with him and struck over his head at Stark.
Poleon had leaped into the room at Burrell's heels, to receive theimpact of a heavy body hurled backward into his arms as if by someirresistible force. He seized it and tore it away from the thing thatpressed after and bore down upon it with the ferocity of a wild beast.He saw Gale reach over the Lieutenant's head and swing his arm, saw theknife-blade bury itself in what he held, then saw it rip away, and felta hot stream spurt into his face. So closely was the Canadian entangledwith Stark that he fancied for an instant the weapon had wounded bothof them for the trader had aimed at his enemy's neck where it joinedthe shoulder, but, hampered by the soldier, his blow went astray aboutfour inches. Doret glimpsed Burrell rising from his knees, his armsabout the trader's waist, and the next instant the combatants weredragged apart.
The Lieutenant wrenched the dripping blade from Gale's hand; it nolonger gleamed, but was warm and slippery in his fingers. Poleon heldStark's gun, which was empty and smoking.
The fight had not lasted a minute, and yet what terrible havoc had beenwrought! The gambler was drenched with his own blood, which gushed fromhim, black in the yellow flicker, and so plentifully that the Frenchmanwas befouled with it, while Gale, too, was horribly stained, butwhether from his own or his enemy's veins it was hard to tell. Thetrader paid no heed to himself nor to the intruders, allowing Burrellto push him back against the wall, the breath wheezing in and out ofhis lungs, his eyes fastened on Stark.
"I got you, Bennett!" he cried, hoarsely. "Your magic is no good." Histeeth showed through his grizzled muzzle like the fangs of some wildanimal.
Bennett, or Stark, as the others knew him, lunged about with hiscaptor, trying to get at his enemy, and crying curses on them all, buthe was like a child in Poleon's arms. Gradually he weakened, andsuddenly resistance died out of him.
"Come away from here," the Lieutenant ordered Gale.
But the old man did not hear, and gathered himself as if to resume thebattle with his bare hands, whereupon the soldier, finding himselfshaking like a frightened child, and growing physically weak at what hesaw, doubted his ability to prevent the encounter, and repeated hiscommand.
"Come away!" he shouted, but the words sounded foolishly flat and inane.
Then Stark spoke intelligibly for the first time.
"Arrest him! You've got to believe what I told you now, Burrell." Hepoured forth a stream of unspeakable profanity, smitten by the bitterknowledge of his first and only defeat. "You'll hang, Gaylord! I'll seeyour neck stretched, damn your heart!" To Poleon he panted, excitedly:"I followed him for fifteen years, Doret. He killed my wife."
"Dat's damn lie!" said the Frenchman.
"No, it isn't. He's under indictment for it back in California. He shother down in cold blood, then ran off with my kid. That's her he callsNecia. She's mine. Ain't I right, Lieutenant?"
At this final desperate effort to fix the crime upon his rival, Burrellturned on him with loathing.
"It's no use, Stark. We heard you say she killed herself. We werestanding outside the door, both of us, and got it from your own lips."
Until this moment the man had stood on his own feet, but now he beganto sag, seeing which, Poleon supported him to the bed, where he sankweakly, collapsing in every joint and muscle.
"It's a job," he snarled. "You put this up, you three, and came here togang me." An unnatural shudder convulsed him as his wounds bit at him,and then he flared up viciously. "But I'll beat you all. I've got thegirl! I've got her!"
"Necia!" cried Burrell, suddenly remembering, for this affray haddriven all else from his mind.
Stark crouched on the edge of his bunk--a ghastly, gray, grinningthing! One weapon still remained to him, and he used it.
"Yes, I've got my daughter!"
"Where is she?" demanded the trader, hoarsely. "Where's my girl?"
The gambler chuckled; an agony seized him till he hiccoughed andstrangled; then, as the spell pas
sed, he laughed again.
"She's got you in her head, like the mother had, but I'll drive it out;I'll treat her like I did her--"
Gale uttered a terrible cry and moved upon him, but Burrell shoulderedthe trader aside, himself possessed by a cold fury that intensified hisstrength tenfold.
"Stop it, Gale! Let me attend to this. I'll make him tell!"
"Oh, will you?" mocked the girl's father.
"Where is she?"
"None of your damned business." Again he was seized with a paroxysmthat left him shivering and his lips colorless. The blankets weresoaked and soggy with blood, and his feet rested in a red pool.
"Ben Stark," said the tortured lover, "you're a sick man, and you'll begone in half an hour at this rate. Won't you do one decent thing beforeyou die?"
"Bah! I'm all right."
"I'll get you a doctor if you'll tell us where she is. If youdon't--I'll--let you die. For God's sake, man, speak up!"
The wounded man strove to rise, but could not, then considered for amoment before he said:
"I sent her away."
"Where?"
"Up-river, on that freighter that left last night. She'll go out bySkagway, and I'll join her later, where I can have her to myself. She'sforty miles up-river now, and getting farther every minute--oh, youcan't catch her!"
The three men stared at one another blankly.
"Why did she go?" said Gale, dully.
"Because I told her who she was, and who you are; because she thinksyou killed her mother; because she was glad to get away." Now that hewas grown too weak to inflict violent pain, the man lied malevolently,gloating over what he saw in the trader's face.
"Never mind, old man, I'll bring her back," said Burrell, and laid acomforting hand on Gale's shoulder, for the fact that she was safe, thefact of knowing something relieved him immensely; but Stark's nextwords plunged him into even blacker horror than the trader felt.
"You won't want her if you catch her. Runnion will see to that."
"Runnion!"
"Yes, I sent him with her."
The lover cried out in anguish, and hid his face in his hands.
"He's wanted her for a long time, so I told him to go ahead--"
None of them noticed Poleon Doret, who, upon this unnatural confession,alone seemed to retain sufficient control to doubt and to reason. Hewas thinking hard, straightening out certain facts, and trying tosquare this horrible statement with things he had seen and heardto-night. All of a sudden he uttered a great cry, and bolted out intothe darkness unheeded by Gale and Burrell, who stood dazed anddistraught with a fear greater than that which was growing in Stark atsight of his wounds.
The gambler looked down at his injuries, opened and closed the fingersof his hand as if to see whether he still maintained control of them,then cried out at the two helpless men:
"Well, are you going to let me bleed to death?"
It brought the soldier out of his trance.
"Why--no, no! We'll get a doctor."
But Gale touched him on the shoulder and said:
"He's too weak to get out. Lock him in, and let him die in the dark."
Stark cursed affrightedly, for it is a terrible thing to bleed to deathin the dark, and in spite of himself the Lieutenant wavered.
"I can't do that. I promised."
"He told that lie to my girl. He gave her to that hound," said thetrader, but Burrell shoved him through the door.
"No! I can't do that." And then to the wounded man he said, "I'll get adoctor, but God have mercy on your soul." He could not trust himself totalk further with this creature, nor be near him any longer, for thoughhe had a slight knowledge of surgery, he would sooner have touched aloathsome serpent than the flesh of this monstrous man.
He pushed Gale ahead of him, and the old man went like a driven beast,for his violence had wasted itself, and he was like a person under thespell of a strong drug. At the doctor's door Burrell stopped.
"I never thought to ask you," he said, wearily; "but you must be hurt?He must have wounded you?"
"I reckon he did--I don't know." Then the man's listless voice throbbedout achingly, as he cried in despair: "She believed him, boy! Shebelieved his lies! That's what hurts." Something like a sob caught inhis throat, and he staggered away under the weight of his greatbereavement.