Cultus Collins left the livery stable, after his almost fatal ride from
the JK, and was crossing a side-street, when Mac Rawls drove in from the
Triangle X. He tied his horse at a little-used hitchrack, instead of at
the War Dance, and walked past where Cultus stood in the unlighted
doorway of a store building.
Cultus was a little curious as to why Rawls had left the team on the
side-street, and followed him over to the War Dance, where he looked
through a window. Rawls was near the bar, talking with Butch Van Deen,
and after a few moments of conversation Butch left him and went toward
the entrance to the stairway. Rawls leaned on the bar and accepted a
drink from the bartender.
Cultus kept watch for several minutes, after which Butch came back and
joined Rawls at the bar. It was all innocent enough, it seemed, but
Cultus couldn’t understand why Rawls had tied the team on a side-street.
He didn’t know that Butch had delivered Marsh’s message to Della through
a closed door and had told her that Rawls was waiting to take her to the
ranch. Della had already had time to do considerable worrying about what
might happen to her, and this looked worse than ever. Something told her
that the risk was too great; that it would be better if she got away
from Painted Valley and carried on her negotiations with Kendall Marsh
by mail. She still had a little money.
But she didn’t want to go down through the saloon. There would not be a
train out of Medicine Tree before early morning, but she could at least
hire a horse and ride to Broad Arrow. Beneath her window was the long
sloping roof of a shed, which ended only about five feet off the ground.
It did not require her long to prepare her getaway. Stuffing a few
things in a suitcase, she opened the window, stepped off on the shed
roof and went cautiously down to the eaves.
Cultus grew tired of watching through the window and walked down past
the alley, when he heard a decided _thump_ and a smothered feminine
exclamation of pain. He whirled around and went swiftly down the alley
in the dark, almost falling over Della, who was clad in a black suit.
Swiftly he lighted a match and looked down into her white face. She was
doubled up, one elbow on the suitcase, her other hand clutching her left
ankle.
“Hurt yourself?” asked Cultus.
“My ankle,” she whispered. “I think it’s broken.”
“What did yuh do, jump off the roof?”
“Yes. And I’ve got to get away from here,” she whispered. “Help me up,
Collins.”
On her feet she essayed a step, but the ankle would not bear her weight.
She leaned heavily on him, almost crying from the pain.
“Where can I take yuh?” he asked. “Back in the saloon?”
“No, not in there! I can’t go back. They want to take me out to the
Triangle X to-night, and I was--was getting away.”
“Uh-huh,” grunted Cultus. He knew now why Rawls had left the team at an
obscure hitchrack.
He picked her up in his arms and circled the back of the buildings to a
corner of the livery stable corral, where he set her down on a pile of
old lumber. It was so dark that no one could see them there, and they
were far enough away from everybody to talk above a whisper.
“Hurts pretty bad, eh?” he asked.
“It--it’s awful. What in the world can I do, anyway?”
“How about a room at the hotel?”
“No; I’ve got to get out of here. You don’t understand, of course, but I
must go, and there isn’t a train until morning.”
Cultus grinned to himself at the whims of fate. He couldn’t let her
leave Medicine Tree. It would ruin all his plans. And but for the
twisted ankle she would have simply disappeared. And he didn’t intend to
let her get away.
“You set right here,” he told her. “I’m goin’ to get a rig at the stable
and take you where you’ll be safe.”
Della was suffering too much to question her destination. She wanted to
get out of Medicine Tree; to get to almost any place, except the
Triangle X, and she felt sure that Cultus was not going to take her out
there.
It seemed hours before Cultus drove the team around to the corner of the
corral and lifted her into the buggy, and she was too weak from the pain
to question him. As they drove past the lighted window of Henderson’s
store, Oscar Link, the bartender, saw them and waved his hand at Cultus.
He went across the street to the War Dance, where he found Butch and Mac
still at the bar. Oscar was amused.
“Wimmin must be scarce around here,” he laughed. “I jist seen Cultus
Collins takin’ Della for a buggy ride.”
Butch stared at him foolishly.
“Say that again, will yuh?”
Oscar repeated his statement.
“Are yuh sure it was Dell, Oscar?”
“Sure it was. I know her well enough, don’t I?”
Butch sauntered away from the bar and headed for the stairway.
“What’s the matter with Butch?” asked Oscar. “He ain’t stuck on Della,
is he?”
“Search me,” growled Mac Rawls, and Oscar went away grinning.
Butch went straight to Della’s room and knocked on the door. There was
no response; so he crashed a shoulder against the flimsy door, smashing
the lock. A few things were scattered around the room, the window was
wide open, but Della was not there.
Butch went back down the stairs and looked around for Oscar, but he had
left the place. Mac Rawls was still at the bar, and Butch went to him.
“Go back and tell Marsh what happened,” he ordered. “She went through
her window and jumped off that old shed out there.”
“All right,” grunted Rawls. “See yuh later.”
While Butch wondered where Cultus was taking her, Della was wondering
the same. The pain had eased up a little now, and with the going of the
pain came curiosity.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“Where you’ll be safe--the JK ranch.”
“Kelton’s ranch?”
“Shore.”
“I’ll not go, I tell you!”
“Well, I’m goin’ out there, and if I’m any judge of ankles, you ain’t in
no shape to get out and walk.”
“But, my God, I don’t want to go out there, Collins! Don’t you realise
anything?”
“They won’t bite yuh.”
“Bite me! You fool, don’t you realise that I--why, that’s the last place
I ever want to go.”
“Mebbe I better take yuh out to the Triangle X.”
“Well, at least I could face them. Go ahead and take me to the Triangle
X.”
“And get both of us killed off, eh? Nope, we’re goin’ to the Kelton
ranch--me and you. That’s the last place Kendall Marsh would ever expect
to find yuh.”
“What’s your interest in this, Collins?”
“Mebbe you’ll find out, if I’m lucky.”
Della had nothing more to say, as they drove along under the stars, but
both of them were doing a lot of thinking. Cultus drove carefully over
the rutty road, because he knew that every lurch was agony to this
woman.
The JK ranch-house was dark, when they drove up to the patio, but Harry
had heard the approach of the buggy and answered Cultus’s hail from a
window.
“Wait’ll I get on some clothes,” said Harry.
Jane had heard the talking and came out on the back porch. She had been
reading before going to bed. Cultus saw her and came over to the porch.
“This is Collins, Jane.”
“I recognised your voice. What has happened?”
“Well, here’s the whole thing,” said Cultus softly. “I’ve got a crippled
lady out here, and she’s got to have a place to sleep to-night.”
“A crippled lady?”
“Ankle twisted.”
“But I don’t understand. Who is she and how did she get hurt?”
“Jumped off the roof. Sounds funny, eh? Mebbe it is. Anyway, her name is
Della, and she’s a dance-hall girl from the War Dance Saloon.”
“That woman?”
“Yea-a-ah; that woman, Jane. She’s in trouble, and I brought her here
where she’d be safe.”
“Safe from what?”
“Kendall Marsh and his gang. Oh, I know how yuh feel, Jane. It’s another
case of where the wolves turn on each other, I reckon. But I brought her
here to you, because I know yuh. She didn’t want to come, but she was
afraid to stay, and she was sufferin’ awful. Mebbe her ankle is busted
and I’ll have to get the doctor.”
Harry came out through the door, slipping into his coat, and in a few
words Cultus told him what had happened. Harry said nothing, except,
“Jane, you heard all this?”
“He told me about it,” she replied. “I guess it’s up to us to take her.”
“We’ll bring her in,” said Cultus.
Della said nothing, when they carried her in and placed her on a couch
in the living-room. Her face was white and drawn from suffering and she
almost fainted when they placed her on the couch.
Jane stood in the centre of the room, looking at her, but Della kept her
eyes averted, as though ashamed to look at Jane. Cultus took off her
shoe and examined the ankle.
“Looks like a bad sprain,” he said. “We’ll soak it good in hot water and
liniment, and then bandage it tight. Can you get the water, Jane?”
“I’ll find the liniment,” offered Harry.
Della looked at Cultus, after the others had left the room, and he
smiled at her.
“Don’t you think I have any conscience?” she fairly hissed at him.
“Bringing me out here! Friendly torture, eh? Making me face that girl,
after what I’ve----Oh, well.”
“I’m not tryin’ to torture yuh. We’ve all got to face our sins.”
Della sank back against the pillows.
“It isn’t my sins; it’s the eyes of that girl. She looked at me as
though she was sorry for me.”
“‘And the greatest of these is charity,’” quoted Cultus softly.
“I don’t want her charity, and I’m not used to having anybody sorry for
me. There’s enough real things in the world to be sorry for without
being sorry for me and my sins.”
“Mebbe yo’re sorry for her.”
“Sorry for her?” Della looked curiously at Cultus. “That’s a new idea. I
never thought of that.”
Jane came in with the hot water, and Cultus walked out in the kitchen,
while Della removed her stocking. She didn’t want to look at Jane.
“Just put the pan where I can reach it,” she said. “I can do the rest.”
“I’ll do it,” softly. “You look all worn out, and I know it must hurt
badly. I sprained my wrist one day, and I know how that hurt.”
She knelt down in front of Della, put the injured foot in the hot water
and began bathing it while Della stared down at Jane’s bowed head, her
lips compressed tightly. Cultus came and stood in the doorway, watching
the operation. Della didn’t look at him; she was looking down at Jane,
tears running down her cheeks, her lips twisted with a misery which was
not caused by her injured ankle.
Harry came in through the kitchen, carrying the liniment bottle, which
he had had difficulty in finding. Cultus stopped him from entering the
living-room, and together they rolled smokes in the kitchen.
Jane happened to glance up at Della.
“Does it hurt so badly?” she asked, her voice full of sympathy.
“Hurt?” hoarsely. “Good God, it hurts worse than anything I ever had
happen to me.”
“This water will ease it, I think. Harry should be here with the
liniment. You can move your foot; so I don’t think it’s a break.”
“I wasn’t thinking about the foot,” she said painfully. “It’s
you--bathing my hurts. That’s what hurts me.”
“Why, that’s all right. Isn’t your name Della.?”
“Yes--just Della. The rest of the name was forgotten years ago.”
“Maybe some day you’ll remember it again.”
“I guess _you’ll_ never forget it--my name, I mean.”
“Let’s not talk about that, Della. I’ll get the liniment and the
bandages.”
She completed the job, and then the two men helped Della to a spare
room, where Jane helped her to undress.
“This was Ben’s room,” said Jane innocently.
“Your brother’s room.”
“We use it for a spare room, since he went away. Now, you have a good
sleep, and I’ll see that you have breakfast in bed. If it gets to
hurting too much, I’ll send Harry to town for the doctor.”
Della thanked her brokenly, and Jane went back to join Cultus and Harry.
Cultus put both hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes.
“Jane,” he said seriously, “when you climbed that devil’s chimney in
Padre Canyon, I said you was the gamest girl in the world--but what
you’ve done to-night shows that along with yore nerve, you’ve got a
heart of gold. You deserve all the happiness in the world, and I hope
yuh get it.”
“That’s sweet of you, Cultus Collins.”
“I’m not tryin’ to be sweet--just honest. _Hasta luego._”
He waved his hand at Harry, and went back to the buggy.