MASKS OFF
Now that it was all explained, it seemed to Bennington de Laney to be
ridiculously simple. He wondered how he could have been so blind. For
the moment, however, all other emotions were swallowed up in intense
mortification over the density he had displayed, and the ridiculous
light in which he must have appeared to all the actors in the comedy.
His companion perceived this, and kindly hastened to relieve it.
"You're wondering how it all happened," said he, "but you don't want to
ask about it. I'm going to tell you the story of your life. You see,
Bert and I knew the Fays very well in Boston, and we knew also that
they were out here in the Hills. That's what tickled us so when you
said you were coming out to this very place. You know yourself, Ben,
that you were pretty green when you were in New York--you must know it,
because you have got over it so nicely since--and it struck us, after
you talked so much about the 'Wild West,' that it would be a shame if
you didn't get some of it. So we wrote Jim that you were coming, and to
see to it that you had a time."
Jim chuckled a little. "From his letters, I guess you had it. He wrote
about that horse he sprung on you, and the time they lynched you, and
all the rest of it, and we thought we had done pretty well, especially
since Jim wrote he thought you weren't half bad, and had come through
in good shape. He wrote, too, that you had run against Bill, and that
Bill was fooling you up in some way--way unspecified. He seemed to be a
little afraid that Bill was trifling with your young affections--how is
it Ben, anyway?--but he said that Bill was very haughty on the subject,
and as he'd never been able to do anything with her before, he didn't
believe he'd have much success if he should try now. I suggested that
Bill might get in a little deep herself," went on James, watching his
listener's face keenly, "but Bert seemed inclined to the opinion that
any one as experienced as Bill was perfectly able to take care of
herself anywhere. She's a mighty fine girl, Ben, old man," suddenly
concluded this startling youth, holding out his hand, "and I wish you
every success in the world in getting her!"
"Thank you, Jeems," replied Bennington simply, without attempting to
deny the state of affairs. "I'm sure I'm glad of your good wishes, but
I'm afraid I haven't any show now." He sighed deeply.
"I'll give an opinion on that after I see Bill again," observed the
artist sagely.
"It always struck me as being queer that two of the most refined people
about here should happen to be living in the same house," commented
Bennington, only just aware that it had so struck him.
"Did it, indeed?" said Leslie drolly. "You're just bursting with
sagacity now, aren't you? And your Sherlock-Holmes intellect is
seething with conjecture. The lover's soul is far above the sordid
earthly considerations which interest us ordinary mortals, but I'll bet
a hat you are wondering how it comes that a Boston girl is out here
without any more restraint on her actions than a careless brother who
doesn't bother himself, and why she's out here at all, and a few things
like that. 'Fess up."
"Well," acknowledged Bennington a trifle reluctantly, "of course it is
a little out of the ordinary, but then it's all right, somehow, I'll
swear."
"All right! Of course it's all right! They haven't any father or
mother, you know, and they are independent of action, as you've no
doubt noticed. Bill kept house for Jim for some time--and they used to
keep a great house, I tell you," said James, smacking his lips in
recollection. "Bert and I used to visit there a good deal. That's why
they call me Jeems--to distinguish me from Jim. Then Jim got tired of
doing nothing--they possess everlasting rocks--you know their lamented
dad was a sort of amateur Croesus--and he decided to monkey with mines.
Bert and I were here one summer, so Bill and Jim just pulled up stakes
and came along too. They have been here ever since. They're both true
sports and like the life, and all that; and, besides, Jim has kept busy
monkeying with mining speculation. They're the salt of the earth, that
pair, if they _do_ worry poor old Boston to death with their ways of
doing things. That's one reason I like 'em so much. Society has fits
over their doings, but it can't get along without them."
"The Fays are a pretty good family, aren't they?" inquired Bennington.
He was irresistibly impelled to ask this question.
"Best going. Mayflower, William the Conqueror, and all that rot. You
must know of the Boston Fays."
"I do. That is, I've heard of them; but I didn't know whether they were
the same."
Jeems perceived that the topic interested the young fellow, so he
descanted at length concerning the Fays, their belongings, and their
doings. Time passed rapidly. Bennington was surprised to see Jim coming
down to them through the afterglow of sunset announcing vociferously
that the meal was at last prepared.
"I've fed the old lady," he announced, "and unlocked her. She doesn't
know what's up anyway. She just sits there like a graven image, scared
to death. She doesn't know a relocation from a telegraph pole. I told
her to get a move on her and fix us up some bunks, and I guess she's
at it now."
They consulted as to the best means of guarding the prisoners. It was
finally agreed that Leslie should stand sentinel until the others had
finished supper.
"I want to watch the effect of this light on the hills," he announced
positively, "and I'm not hungry, and Jim ought to cool off before
coming out into the air, and Ben's shoulder ought to be taken care of.
Get along with ye!"
Bennington accompanied Jim to the meal very cheerfully. The facts as to
the latter's persecutions remained the same, but in some way they did
not hold the same proportions as heretofore. The mere item that Jim Fay
was Mary's brother, instead of her lover, made all the difference in
the world. He chattered in a lively fashion concerning the method of
work to be adopted. Suddenly he pulled himself up short.
"I think I must beg your pardon," he said. "I heard about it all from
Jim Leslie. I have been very green, and you were quite right. If you
still want to do so, let's go into this together as friends."
"No pardon coming to me," responded Fay heartily. "I've been a little
tough on you occasionally, that I'll admit, and if I've done too much,
I'm sure I beg _your_ pardon. I saw you had the right stuff in you that
day when you stuck to the horse until you rode him, and I've always
liked you first-rate since then. And I wouldn't worry about this last
matter. You were green to the country, and were put down here without
definite instructions. You trusted Davidson, of course, and got fooled
in it; but then you just followed Bishop's lead in that. He'd been
trusting Davidson before you got here, and if he hadn't trusted him
right along, you can bet you'd have had your directions from A to Z. He
was as much to blame as you were, and you'll find that he knows it."
"I'm afraid you can't make me feel any better about that," objected
Bennington, shaking his head despondently.
"Well, you'll feel better after a time, and anyway there's no actual
harm done."
At this moment Bert Leslie entered.
"Bill's tickled to death," he announced. "She says she's coming up
first thing in the morning. She wanted to come right off and cook
supper, but I wouldn't let her. She couldn't very well stay here all
night, and it's pretty late now. What you got here? Pork? Coffee?
Murphies?"
He sat down and began to eat hungrily. Jim arose to relieve the
sentinel at the mouth of the shaft, at the same time advising de Laney
to go to bed as soon as possible.
"You're tired," he said, "and need rest. Wet that compress well with
Pond's Extract, and we'll dress it again in the morning."
In the kitchen he found the strange sombre woman sitting bolt upright
in silence, her arms folded rigidly across her flat bosom. She looked
straight in front of her, and rocked slowly to and fro on her chair.
"You mustn't worry, Mrs. Arthur," consoled Fay kindly, pausing for a
moment. "There isn't going to be any trouble. It's just a little matter
of mining law. We'll have to keep your husband locked up for a few
days, but he won't be harmed."
The woman made no reply. Fay looked at her sharply again, and passed
out.
"Jeems," he directed that individual at the mouth of the shaft, "go get
your grub. Send the kid to bed right off, and then you and Bert come
down here and we'll fix up these prairie dogs of ours down the hole."
Jeems and his brother therefore helped the wounded hero to bed, and
left him to a much-needed slumber; after which they returned to the
spot of light in the darkness which marked the glow of Fay's pipe. That
capable individual issued directions. First of all they lowered, by
means of a light cord, food and water to their prisoners. The latter
maintained a sullen silence, and it was only by the lightening of the
burden at the end of the line that those above knew their provisions
had been appropriated. Then followed blankets. The Leslies were
strongly in favour of as uncomfortable a confinement as possible, and
so disapproved of blankets, but Fay insisted. After that the brothers
manned the windlass and let Jim down in a bowline about twenty feet,
while he detached and removed two lengths of the shaft ladder. This
left no means of ascent, as the walls of the shaft were smoothly
timbered; but, to make matters sure, they covered the mouth with inch
thick boards on which they piled large chunks of ore.
"You don't suppose they'll smother?" suggested Bert.
"Not much! There's only three of them, and often men drilling will stay
down ten or twelve hours at a time without using up the air."
"Sweet dreams, gentlemen!" called the irrepressible Jeems in farewell.
"There's one other thing," said Jim, "and then we can crawl in."
He approached the cabin in which Arthur and his wife were accustomed to
sleep, and listened until he had satisfied himself that Mrs. Arthur was
inside. Then he softly locked the door, the key of which he had
appropriated immediately after supper, and propped shut the heavy
wooden shutter of the window.
"No dramatic escapes in ours, thank you!" he muttered. He drew back and
surveyed his work with satisfaction. "Come on, boys, let's turn in.
To-morrow we slave."