THE ESCAPE
It was not difficult for James O’Hara to realize that his presence on
the Limited was discovered. The rolling of the porter’s eyes in his
direction and the interested glances of the train men, as they took
especial occasion to glance at him was enough to tell that fact to this
man, keyed up as he was from sheer excitement. He sat very tense and
stared out of the window, every faculty alert, his body straight and
rigid.
When he did act it was with tiger-like agility and without an instant’s
forethought.
As the train neared the Albuquerque station, a women across the aisle
raised her window to lean out and see more clearly. She had no time to
make a further move. O’Hara had leaped across the aisle, and brushing
her aside, had flung himself through the window of the now slowly
moving train.
It was done so quietly and so quickly that it was a few seconds before
the occupants of the car realized what had happened. A hue and cry was
then immediately raised. The whole car, which up till now had been the
usual poised and indifferent gathering, turned loose into a veritable
bedlam.
As the train stopped at the station the passengers piled out one after
another to gaze across the sand by the tracks and watch the fleeing
man. But their amazement was great when, strain their eyes as they
would, they could see no trace of any man. The only sign of activity
was the flying dust of a distant automobile, so they turned their
attention to the officers who had been waiting for the refugee and were
now hastily mounting ponies to ride in pursuit of the fleeing man,
undoubtedly hidden somewhere in the sagebrush.
As the horsemen vanished in the cloud of dust, the tourists, once again
their normal and conventional selves, turned their full attention to
the most conventional but utterly abnormal Indians of the Harvey Eating
House.
* * * * *
For a moment O’Hara was stunned by his fall to the ground, but shaking
himself and finding no bones broken he rose and started for the narrow
sand road, still too dazed to know just what he did. Subconsciously,
he heard the hum of a motor and turned aside to let it pass, but
a voice hailed him, speaking in the perfect accent of a cultured
gentlemen: “Can I give you a lift?”
Scarcely noticing the magnificent car which slowed up beside him,
O’Hara, swung open the door of the tonneau and leaped in. Even as he
did so the car gained speed, until at fully forty miles an hour they
were speeding farther and farther into the desert.
The man at the wheel did not speak a further word. His whole attention
was engrossed in keeping his powerful machine in the rut of the
narrow road that stretched itself interminably out into the sand of
the desert. The sun was glaring fiercely down upon them and the sand
reflected its intense heat. O’Hara leaned back in the seat and closed
his eyes. The rush of air, hot as it was, revived him and he felt
relaxed and quite indifferent as to where he went.
The car plunged at its terrific speed and yet the little roadway, the
far horizon, the gray of the sagebrush and the cactus never changed.
It seemed to stretch on, gold and drab, into infinity. The sun sank
gradually in the West, until it hung a great red ball of fire, just
balancing above the dim silhouette of the foothills. Still O’Hara
dozed and the driver of the car continued his unceasing and perfectly
controlled speed.
Presently, however, the driver turned abruptly and addressed O’Hara.
“I saw your leap through the car window.” He spoke with peculiar
distinctness, a clearer English than O’Hara was accustomed to hear.
By this time the fugitive was fully awake and himself again, and he
noticed with keen interest the splendid physique of the man addressing
him. His shoulders had an erect bearing that instantly reminded one of
long military training, and his face was highly intelligent, though the
mouth and eyes were indefinably cold and cruel.
O’Hara waited quietly while the man continued:
“You see I knew you were escaping from something; I could at any time
deliver you to the authorities. But I also know that you are quite
intelligent. I have many business interests in Mexico and I need a
keen, intelligent agent to attend to them for me. If you fail me, there
are always the authorities, remember. If not, you’ll find this work
both pleasant and lucrative.
“We are staying out here on account of my wife’s health. Her condition
is improved, but we still fear a moist climate, and of course I remain
with her. Do you accept this work? Will you keep your own counsel,
or--” and the cut of a knife was the tone of the man “--shall we return
to Albuquerque?”
The first impression of distrust of the man deepened into conviction
with O’Hara, but no choice seemed open to him. So with a strange
foreboding in his heart and with a sense of toils encircling and
strangling him, he accepted the position.