Bucky O'Connor: A Tale of the Unfenced Border

by William MacLeod Raine

  CHAPTER 18. A DINNER FOR THREE

  "I thought we bumped you off down at Epitaph," Leroy said.

  "Along with Scott? Well, no. You see, I'm a regular cat to kill, Mr.Leroy, and I couldn't conscientiously join the angels with so lame astory as a game laig to explain my coming," said Collins cheerfully.

  "In that case--"

  "Yes, I understand. You'd be willing to accommodate with a hole in thehaid instead of one in the laig. But I'll not trouble you."

  "What are you doing here? Didn't I warn you to attend to your ownbusiness and leave me alone?"

  "Seems to me you did load me up with some good advice, but I plumbforgot to follow it."

  The Wolf cursed under his breath. "You came here at your own risk,then?"

  "Well, I did and I didn't," corrected the sheriff easily. "I've got afive-thousand policy in the Southeastern Life Insurance Company, so Ireckon it's some risk to them. And, by the way, it's a company I canrecommend."

  "Does it insure against suicide?" asked Leroy, his masked, smiling faceveiling thinly a ruthless purpose.

  "And against hanging. Let me strongly urge you to take out a policy atonce," came the prompt retort.

  "You think it necessary?"

  "Quite. When you and York Neil and Hardman made an end of Scott youthrew ropes round your own necks. Any locoed tenderfoot would knowthat."

  The sheriff's unflinching look met the outlaw's black frown serene andclear-eyed.

  "And would he know that you had committed suicide when you ran thisplace down and came here?" asked Leroy, with silken cruelty.

  "Well, he ought to know it. The fact is, Mr. Leroy, that it hadn'tpenetrated my think-tank that this was your hacienda when I camemavericking in."

  "Just out riding for your health?"

  "Not exactly. I was looking for Miss Mackenzie. I cut her trail aboutsix miles from the Rocking Chair and followed it where she wanderedaround. The trail led directly away from the ranch toward the mountains.That didn't make me any easy in my mind. So I just jogged along andelected myself an investigating committee. I arrived some late, but hereI am, right side up--and so hearty welcome that my friend Cork won'thear of my leaving at all. He don't do a thing but entertain me--neverlets his attention wander. Oh, I'm the welcome guest, all right. Nodoubt about that."

  Wolf Leroy turned to Alice. "I think you had better go to your room," hesaid gently.

  "Oh, no, no; let me stay," she implored. "You would never--you wouldnever--" The words died on her white lips, but the horror in her eyesfinished the question.

  He met her gaze fully, and answered her doggedly. "You're not in this,Miss Mackenzie. It's between him and me. I shan't allow even you tointerfere."

  "But--oh, it is horrible! for two minutes."

  He shook his head.

  "You must! Please."

  "What use?"

  Let me see you alone

  Her troubled gaze shifted to the strong, brown, sun-baked face of theman who had put himself in this deadly peril to save her. His keen,blue-gray eyes, very searching and steady, met hers with a courageshe thought splendid, and her heart cried out passionately against thesacrifice.

  "You shall not do it. Oh, please let me talk it over with you."

  "No."

  "Have you forgotten already?--and you said you would always remember."She almost whispered it.

  She had stung his consent at last. "Very well," he said, and opened thedoor to let her pass into the inner room.

  But she noticed that his eyes were hard as jade.

  "Don't you see that he came here to save me?" she cried, when they werealone. "Don't you see it was for me? He didn't come to spy out yourplace of hiding."

  "I see that he has found it. If I let him go, he will bring back a posseto take us."

  "You could ride across the line into Mexico."

  "I could, but I won't."

  "But why?"

  "Because, Miss Mackenzie, the money we took from the express car of theLimited is hidden here, and I don't know where it is; because the sunwon't ever rise on a day when Val Collins will drive me out of Arizona."

  "I don't know what you mean about the money, but you must let him go.You spoke of a service I had done you. This is my pay."

  "To turn him loose to hunt us down?"

  "He'll not trouble you if you let him go."

  A sardonic smile touched his face. "A lot you know of him. He thinks ithis duty to rid the earth of vermin like us. He'd never let up till hegot us or we got him. Well, we've got him now, good and plenty. He tookhis chances, didn't he? It isn't as if he didn't know what he was upagainst. He'll tell you himself it's a square deal. He's game, and hewon't squeal because we win and he has to pay forfeit."

  The girl wrung her hands despairingly.

  "It's his life or mine--and not only mine, but my men's," continued theoutlaw. "Would you turn a wolf loose from your sheep pen to lead thepack to the kill?"

  "But if he were to promise--"

  "We're not talking about the ordinary man--he'd promise anything and lieto-morrow. But Sheriff Collins won't do it. If you think you can twist apromise out of him not to take advantage of what he has found out you'reguessing wrong. When you think he's a quitter, just look at that corkhand of his, and remember how come he to get it. He'll take his medicineproper, but he'll never crawl."

  "There must be some way," she cried desperately,

  "Since you make a point of it, I'll give him his chance."

  "You'll let him go?" The joy in her voice was tremulously plain.

  He laughed, leaning carelessly against the mantelshelf. But his narrowedeyes watched her vigilantly. "I didn't say I would let him go. What Isaid was that I'd give him a chance."

  "How?"

  "They say he's a dead shot. I'm a few with a gun myself. We'll ridedown to the plains together, and find a good lonely spot suitable fora graveyard. Then one of us will ride away, and the other will stay, orperhaps both of us will stay."

  She shuddered. "No--no--no. I won't have it."

  "Afraid something might happen to me, ma'am?" he asked, with a queerlaugh,

  "I won't have it."

  "Afraid, perhaps, he might be the one left for the coyotes and thebuzzards?"

  She was white to the lips, but at his next word the blood came flamingback to her cheeks.

  "Why don't you tell the truth? Why don't you; say you love him, and bedone with it? Say it and I'll take him back to Tucson with you safe asif he were a baby."

  She covered her face with her hands, but with two steps he had reachedher and captured he hands.

  "The truth," he demanded, and his eyes compelled.

  "It is to save his life?"

  He laughed harshly. "Here's melodrama for you! Yes--to save your lover'slife."

  She lifted her eyes to his bravely. "What you say is true. I love him."

  Leroy bowed ironically. "I congratulate Mr. Collins, who is now quitesafe, so far as I am concerned. Meanwhile, lest he be jealous of yourabsence, shall we return now?"

  Some word of sympathy for the reckless scamp trembled on her lips, buther instinct told her would hold it insult added to injury, and she lefther pity unvoiced.

  "If you please."

  But as he heeled away she laid a timid hand on his arm. He turned andlooked grimly down at the working face, at the sweet, soft, pitifuleyes brimming with tears. She was pure woman now, all the caste pridedissolved in yearning pity.

  "Oh, you lamb--you precious lamb," he groaned, and clicked his teethshut on the poignant pain of his loss.

  "I think you're splendid," she told him. "Oh, I know what you'vedone--that you are not good. I know you've wasted your life and livedwith your hand against every man's. But I can't help all that. I lookfor the good in you, and I find it. Even in your sins you are not petty.You know how to rise to an opportunity."

  This man of contradictions, forever the creature of his impulses, gavethe lie to her last words by signally failing to rise to this one. Hesnatched
her to him, and looked down hungry-eyed at her sweet beauty, asfresh and fragrant as the wild rose in the copse.

  "Please," she cried, straining from him with shy, frightened eyes.

  For answer he kissed her fiercely on the cheeks, and eyes, and mouth.

  "The rest are his, but these are mine," he laughed mirthlessly.

  Then, flinging her from him, he led the way into the next room. Flushedand disheveled, she followed. He had outraged her maiden instincts andtrampled down her traditions of caste, but she had no time to think ofthis now.

  "If you're through explaining the mechanism of that Winchester toSheriff Collins we'll reluctantly dispense with your presence, Mr.Reilly. We have arranged a temporary treaty of peace," the chief outlawsaid.

  Reilly, a huge lout of a fellow with a lowering countenance, venturedto expostulate. "Ye want to be careful of him. He's quicker'n chainlightning."

  His chief exploded with low-voiced fury. "When I ask your advice, giveit, you fat-brained son of a brand blotter. Until then padlock thatmouth of yours. Vamos."

  Reilly vanished, his face a picture of impotent malice, and Leroycontinued:

  "We're going to the Rocking Chair in the morning, Mr. Collins--atleast, you and Miss Mackenzie are going there. I'm going part way. We'vearranged a little deal all by our lones, subject to your approval. Youget away without that hole in your head. Miss Mackenzie goes with you,and I get in return the papers you took off Scott and Webster."

  "You mean I am to give up the hunt?" asked Collins.

  "Not at all. I'll be glad to death to see you blundering in again whenMiss Mackenzie isn't here to beg you off. The point is that in exchangefor your freedom and Miss Mackenzie's I get those papers you left in asafety-deposit vault in Epitaph. It'll save me the trouble of stickingup the First National and winging a few indiscreet citizens of thatburgh. Savvy?"

  "That's all you ask?" demanded the surprised sheriff.

  "All I ask is to get those papers in my hand and a four-hour startbefore you begin the hunt. Is it a deal?"

  "It's a deal, but I give it to you straight that I'll be after you assoon as the four hours are up," returned Collins promptly. "I don't knowwhat magic Miss Mackenzie used. Still, I must compliment her on gettingus out mighty easy."

  But though the sheriff looked smilingly at Alice, that young woman,usually mistress of herself in all emergencies, did not lift her eyesto meet his. Indeed, he thought her strangely embarrassed. She was asflushed and tongue-tied as a country girl in unaccustomed company. Sheseemed another woman than the self-possessed young beauty he had met amonth before on the Limited, but he found her shy abashment charming.

  "I guess you thought you had come to the end of the passage, Mr.Collins," suggested the outlaw, with listless curiosity.

  "I didn't know whether to order the flowers or not, but 'way down in myheart I was backing my luck," Collins told him.

  "Of course it's understood that you are on parole until we separate,"said Leroy curtly.

  "Of course."

  "Then we'll have supper at once, for we'll have to be on the roadearly." He clapped his hands together, and the Mexican woman appeared.Her master flung out a command or two in her own language.

  "--poco tiempo,--" she answered, and disappeared.

  In a surprisingly short time the meal was ready, set out on a tablewhite with Irish linen and winking with cut glass and silver.

  "Mr. Leroy does not believe at all in doing when in Rome as the Romansdo," Alice explained to Collins, in answer to his start of amazement."He's a regular Aladdin. I shouldn't be a bit surprised to see electriclights come on next."

  "One has to attempt sometimes to blot out the forsaken desert," saidLeroy. "Try this cut of slow elk, Miss Mackenzie. I think you'll likeit."

  "Slow elk! What is that?" asked the girl, to make talk.

  "Mr. Collins will tell you," smiled Leroy.

  She turned to the sheriff, who first apologized, with a smile, to hishost. "Slow elk, Miss Mackenzie, is veal that has been rustled. I expectMr. Leroy has pressed a stray calf into our Service."

  "I see," she flashed. "Pressed veal."

  The outlaw smiled at her ready wit, and took on himself the burden offurther explanation. "And this particular slow elk comes from a ranch onthe Aravaipa owned by Mr. Collins. York shot it up in the hills a day ortwo ago."

  "Shouldn't have been straying so far from its range," suggested Collins,with a laugh. "But it's good veal, even if I say it that shouldn't."

  "Thank you," burlesqued the bandit gravely, with such an ironic touch ofconvention that Alice smiled.

  After dinner Leroy produced cigars, and with the permission of MissMackenzie the two men smoked while the conversation ran on a topic asimpersonal as literature. A criticism of novels and plays written toillustrate the frontier was the line into which the discussion fell, andthe girl from the city, listening with a vivid interest, was pleased tofind that these two real men talked with point and a sense of dexterousturns. She felt a sort of proud proprietorship in their power, andwished that some of the tailors' models she had met in society, who heldso good a conceit of themselves, might come under the spell of theirstrong, tolerant virility. Whatever the difference between them, itmight be truly said of both that they had lived at first hand and comein touch closely with all the elemental realities. One of them wasa romantic villain and the other an unromantic hero, but her pulsingemotions morally condemned one no more than the other.

  This was the sheer delight of her esthetic sense of fitness, that strongmen engaged in a finish fight could rise to so perfect a courtesy thatan outsider could not have guessed the antagonism that ran between them,enduring as life.

  Leroy gave the signal for breaking up by looking at his watch. "Afraid Imust say 'Lights out.' It's past eleven. We'll have to be up and onour way with the hooters. Sleep well, Miss Mackenzie. You don't need toworry about waking. I'll have you called in good time. Buenos noches."

  He held the door for her as she passed out; and, in passing, her eyesrose to meet his.

  "--Buenos noches, senor;--I'm sure I shall sleep well to-night," shesaid.

  It had been the day of Alice Mackenzie' life. Emotions and sensations,surging through her, had trodden on each other's heels. Woman-like, shewelcomed the darkness to analyze and classify the turbid chaos of hermind. She had been swept into sympathy with an outlaw, to give him noworse name. She had felt herself nearer to him than to some honest menshe could name who had offered her their love.

  Surely, that had been bad enough, but worse was to follow. Thisdiscerning scamp had torn aside her veils of maiden reserve and exposedthe secret fancy of her heart, unknown before even to herself. She hadconfessed love for this big-hearted sheriff and frontiersman. Hereshe could plead an ulterior motive. To save his life any deception waspermissible. Yes, but where lay the truth? With that insistent demand ofthe outlaw had rushed over her a sudden wave of joy. What could it meanunless it meant what she would not admit that it could mean? Why, theman was impossible. He was not of her class. She had scarce seen him ahalf-dozen times. Her first meeting with him had been only a month ago.One month ago--

  A remembrance flashed through her that brought her from the bed in abarefoot search for matches. When the candle was relit he slipped achamoisskin pouch from her neck and from it took a sealed envelope. Itwas the note in which the sheriff on the night of the train robbery hadwritten his prediction of how the matter would come out. She was to openthe envelope in a month, and the month was up to-night.

  As she tore open the flap it came to her with one of her little flashingsmiles that she could never have guessed under what circumstances shewould read it. By the dim flame of a guttering candle, in a cottonnightgown borrowed from a Mexican menial, a prisoner of the very man whohad robbed her and the recipient of a practical confession of lovefrom him not three hours earlier! Surely here was a situation to beggarromance. But before she had finished reading the reality was still moreunbelievable.

  I have
just met for the first time the woman I am going to marry if Godis good to one. I am writing this because I want her to know it as soonas I decently can. Of course, I am not worthy of her, but then I don'tknow any man that is.

  So the fact goes--I'm bound to marry her if there's nobody else in theway. This isn't conceit. It is a deep-seated certainty I can't get awayfrom, and don't want to. When she reads this, she will think it a pieceof foolish presumption. My hope is she will not always think so. HerLover,

  VAL COLLINS.

  Her swift-pulsing heart was behaving very queerly. It seemed to hangdelightfully still, and then jump forward with odd little beats ofjoy. She caught a glimpse of her happy face, and blew out the light forshame, groping her way back to bed with the letter carefully guardedagainst crumpling by her hand.

  Foolish presumption indeed. Why, he had only seen her once, and he saidhe would marry her with never a by-your-leave! Wasn't that what he hadsaid? She had to strike another match to learn the lines that had notstuck word for word in her mind, and after that another match to get apicture of the scrawl to visualize in the dark.

  How dared he take her for granted? But what a masterly way of wooing forthe right man! What idiotic folly if he had been the wrong one! Was he,then, the right one? She questioned herself closely, but came to no moredefinite answer than this--that her heart went glad with a sweet joy toknow he wanted to marry her.

  She resolved to put him from her mind, and in this resolve she fell atlast into smiling sleep.