THE BROKEN TRUST
To seek always for Truth and Justice and the common good of mankind has
seldom had its earthly reward but, twenty-three hundred and fifteen
years after he drank the cup of hemlock, the soul of Socrates received
its oration. Not that the Colonel was hipped upon the subject of the
ancients, for he talked mining and showed some copper claims as well;
but a similar tragedy in his own domestic life had evoked a profound
admiration for Socrates. And if Wiley understood what lay behind his
words he gave no hint to the Colonel. Always, morning, noon and night,
he listened respectfully, his lips curling briefly at some thought; and
at the end of a week the Colonel was as devoted to him as he had been
formerly to his father.
Yet when, as sometimes happened, the Colonel tried to draw him out, he
shook his head stubbornly and was dumb. The problem that he had could
not be solved by talk; it called for years to recover and forget; and if
the Colonel once knew that his own daughter was involved he might rise
up and demand a retraction. In his first rush of bitterness Wiley had
stated without reservation that Virginia had sold him out for money, and
the pride of the Huffs would scarcely allow this to pass unnoticed--and
yet he would not retract it if he died for it. He knew from her own lips
that Virginia had betrayed him, and it could never be explained away.
If she argued that she was misled by Blount and his associates, he had
warned her before she left; and if she had thought that he was doing her
an injustice, that was not the way to correct it. She had accepted a
trust and she had broken that trust to gain a personal profit--and that
was the unpardonable sin. He could have excused her if she had weakened
or made some mistake, but she had betrayed him deliberately and
willfully; and as he sat off by himself, mulling it over in his mind,
his eyes became stern and hard. For the killing of Stiff Neck George he
had no regrets, and the treachery of Blount did not surprise him; but he
had given this woman his heart to keep and she had sold him for fifty
thousand dollars. All the rest became as nothing but this wound refused
to heal, for he had lost his faith in womankind. Had he loved her less,
or trusted her less, it would not have rankled so deep; but she had been
his one woman, whose goings and comings he watched for, and all the time
she was playing him false.
He sat silent one morning in the cool shade of a wild grapevine, jerking
the meat of a mountain sheep that he had killed; and as he worked
mechanically, shredding the flesh into long strips, he watched the lower
trail. Ten days had gone by since he had fled across the Valley, but the
danger of pursuit had not passed and, as he saw a great owl that was
nesting down below rise up blindly and flop away he paused and reached
for his gun.
"Never mind," said the Colonel who had noticed the movement. "I expect
an old Indian in with grub. But step into the cave and if it's who you
think it is you can count on me till the hair slips."
Wiley stepped in quietly, strapping on his belt and pistol, and then the
Colonel burst into a roar.
"It's Charley," he cried, leaping nimbly to his feet and putting up his
gun. "Come on, boy--here's where we get that drink!"
Wiley looked out doubtfully as Heine rushed up and sniffed at the pans
of meat, and then he ducked back and hid. Around the shoulder of the
cliff came Death Valley Charley; but behind him, on a burro, was
Virginia. He looked out again as the Colonel swore an oath and then she
leapt off and ran towards them.
"Oh--_Father_!" she cried and hung about his neck while the
astonished Colonel kissed her doubtfully.
"Well, well!" he protested as she fell to weeping, "what's the cause of
all this distress? Is your mother not well, or----"
"We--we thought you were _dead_!" she burst out indignantly, "and
Charley there knew--all the time!"
She let go of her father and turned upon Death Valley Charley, who was
solicitously attending to Heine, and the Colonel spoke up peremptorily.
"Here, Charley!" he commanded, "let that gluttonous cur wait. What's
this I hear from Virginia? Didn't you tell her I was perfectly well?"
"Why--why yes, sir; I did, sir," replied Charley, apologetically,
"but--she only thought I was crazy. I told her, all the time----"
"Oh, Charley!" reproached Virginia, "didn't you know better than that?
You only said it when you had those spells. Why didn't you tell me when
you were feeling all right--and you denied it, I know, repeatedly!"
"The Colonel would kill me," mumbled Charley sullenly. "He told me not
to tell. But I brought you the whiskey, sir; a whole big----"
"Never mind the whiskey," said the Colonel sharply. "Now, let's get to
the bottom of this matter. Why should you think I was dead when I had
merely absented myself----"
"But the body!" clamored Virginia. "We got word you were lost when your
burro came in at the Borax works. And when we hired trackers, the
Indians said you were lost--and your body was out in the sand-hills!"
"It was that cursed camp-robber!" declared the Colonel with conviction.
"Well, I'm glad he's gone to his reward. It was only some rascal that
came through here and stole my riding burro--did they care for old Jack
at the Works? Well, I shall thank them for it kindly; and anything I can
do--but what's the matter, Virginia?"
She had drawn away from him and was gazing about anxiously and Charley
had slunk guiltily away.
"Why--where's Wiley?" she cried, clutching her father by the arm. "Oh,
isn't he here, after all?"
"Wiley?" repeated the Colonel. "Why, who are you talking about? I never
even heard of such a man."
"Oh, he's dead then; he's lost!" she sobbed, sinking down on the ground
in despair. "Oh, I knew it, all the time! But that old Charley----" She
cast a hateful glance at him and the Colonel beckoned sternly.
"What now?" he demanded as Charley sidled near. "Who is this Mr. Wiley?"
"Why--er--Wiley; Wiley Holman, you know. I followed his tracks to the
Gateway. Ain't he around here somewhere? I found this bottle----" He
held up the flask that he had given to Wiley, and the Colonel started
back with a cry.
"What, a tall young fellow with leather puttees?"
"Oh, yes, yes!" answered Virginia, suddenly springing to her feet again.
"We followed him--isn't he here?"
The Colonel turned slowly and glanced at the cave, where Wiley was still
hiding close, and then he cleared his throat.
"Well, kindly explain first why you should be following this gentleman,
and----"
"Oh, he's here, then!" sighed Virginia and fell into her father's arms,
at which Charley scuttled rapidly away.
"Mr. Holman," spoke up the Colonel, as Wiley did not stir, "may I ask
you to come out here and explain?"
There was a rustle inside the cave and at last Wiley came out, stuffing
a strip of dried meat into his hip pocket.
"I'll come out, yes," he said, "but, as I'm about to go, I'll leave it
to your daughter to explain."
He picked up his canteen and started down to the water-hole, but the
Colonel called him sternly back.
"My friend," he said, "it is the custom among gentlemen to answer a
courteous question. I must ask you then what there is between you and my
daughter, and why she should follow you across Death Valley?"
"There is nothing between us," answered Wiley categorically, "and I
don't know why she followed me--that is, if she really did."
"Well, I did!" sobbed Virginia, burying her face on her father's breast,
"but I wish I hadn't now!"
"Huh!" grunted Wiley and stumped off down the trail where he filled his
canteen at the pool. He was mad, mad all over, and yet he experienced a
strange thrill at the thought of Virginia following him. He had left her
smiling and shaking hands with Blount, but a curse had been on the
money, and her conscience had forced her to follow him. It had been
easy, for her, with a burro to ride on and Death Valley Charley to guide
her; but with him it had been different. He had fled from arrest and it
was only by accident that he had won to the water-hole in time. But yet,
she had followed him; and now she would apologize and explain, as she
had explained it all once before. Well, since she had come--and since
the Colonel was watching him--he shouldered his canteen and came back.
"My daughter tells me," began the Colonel formally, "that you are the
son of my old friend, John Holman; and I trust that you will take my
hand."
He held out his hand and Wiley blinked as he returned the warm clasp of
his friend. Ten days of companionship in the midst of that solitude had
knitted their souls together and he loved the old Colonel like a father.
"That's all right," he muttered. "And--say, hunt up the Old Man! Because
he thinks the world of you, still."
"I will do so," replied the Colonel, "but will you do me a favor? By
gad, sir; I can't let you go. No, you must stay with me, Wiley, if that
is your name; I want to talk with you later, about your father. But now,
as a favor, since Virginia has come so far, I will ask you to sit down
and listen to her. And--er--Wiley; just a moment!" He beckoned him to
one side and spoke low in his ear. "About that woman who betrayed your
trust--perhaps I'd better not mention her to Virginia?"
Wiley's eyes grew big and then they narrowed. The Colonel thought there
was another woman. How could he, proud soul, even think for a moment
that Virginia herself had betrayed him? No, to his high mind it was
inconceivable that a daughter of his should violate a trust; and there
was Virginia, watching them.
"Very well," replied Wiley, and smiled to himself as he laid down his
gun and canteen. He led the way up the creek to where a gnarled old
cottonwood cast its shadow against the cliff and smoothed out a seat
against the bank. "Now sit down," he said, "and let's have this over
with before the Colonel gets wise. He's a fine old gentleman and if his
daughter took after him I wouldn't be dodging the sheriff."
"Well, I came to tell you," began Virginia bravely, "that I'm sorry for
what I've done. And to show you that I mean it I gave Blount back his
stock."
Wiley gazed at her grimly for a moment and then he curled up his lip.
"Why not come through," he asked at last, "and acknowledge that he held
it out on you?"
Virginia started and then she smiled wanly.
"No," she said, "it wasn't quite that. And yet--well, he didn't really
give it to me."
"I knew it!" exploded Wiley, "the doggoned piker! But of course you made
a clean-up on your other stock?"
"No, I didn't! I gave that away, too! But Wiley, why won't you listen to
me? I didn't intend to do it, but he explained it all so nicely----"
"Didn't I tell you he would?" he raged.
"Yes, but listen; you don't understand. When I went to him first I asked
for Father's stock and--he must have known what was coming. I guess he
saw the bills. Anyway, he told me then that he had always loved my
father, and that he wanted to protect us from you; and so, he said, he
was just holding my Father's stock to keep you from getting it away from
us. And then he called in some friends of his; and oh, they all became
so indignant that I thought I couldn't be wrong! Why, they showed me
that you would make millions by the deal, and all at our expense; and
then--I don't know, something came over me. We'd been poor so long, and
it would make you so rich; and, like a fool, I went and did it."
"Well, that's all right," said Wiley. "I forgive you, and all that; but
don't let your father know. He's got old-fashioned ideas about keeping a
trust and--say, do you know what he thinks? I happened to mention, the
first night I got in, that a woman had thrown me down; and he just now
took me aside and told me not to worry because he'd never mention the
lady to you. He thinks it was somebody else."
"Oh," breathed Virginia, and then she sat silent while he kicked a hole
in the dirt and waited. He was willing to concede anything, agree to
anything, look pleasant at anything, until the ordeal was over; and then
he intended to depart. Where he would go was a detail to be considered
later when he felt the need of something to occupy his mind; right now
he was only thinking that she looked very pale--and there was a tired,
hunted look in her eyes. She had nerves, of course, the same as he had,
and the trip across Death Valley had been hard on her; but if she
suffered now, he had suffered also, and he failed to be as sorry as he
should.
"You'll be all right now," he said at last, when it seemed she would
never speak up, "and I'm glad you found your father. He'll go back with
you now and take a fall out of Blount and--well, you won't feel so poor,
any more."
"Yes, I will," returned Virginia, suddenly rousing up and looking at him
with haggard eyes. "I'll always feel poor, because if I gave you back
all I had it wouldn't be a tenth of what you lost."
"Oh, that's all right," grumbled Wiley. "I don't care about the money.
Are they hunting me for murder, or what?"
"Oh, no; not for anything!" she answered eagerly. "You'll come back,
won't you, Wiley? Mother was watching you through her glasses, and she
says George fired first. They aren't trying to arrest you; all they want
you to do is to give up and stand a brief trial. And I'll help you,
Wiley; oh, I've just got to do something or I'll be miserable all my
life!"
"You're tired now," said Wiley. "It'll look different, pretty soon;
and--well, I don't think I'll go in, right now."
"But where will you go?" she entreated piteously. "Oh, Wiley, can't you
see I'm sorry? Why can't you forgive me and let me try to make amends,
instead of making both our lives so miserable?"
"I don't know," answered Wiley. "It's just the way I feel. I've got
nothing _against_ you; I just want to get away and forget a few
things that you've done."
"And then?" she asked, and he smiled enigmatically.
"Well, maybe you'll forget me, too."
"But Father!" she objected as he rose up suddenly and started off down
the creek. "He thinks we're lovers, you know." Wiley stopped and the
cold anger in his eyes gave way to a look of doubt. "Why not pretend we
are?" she suggested wistfully. "Not really, but just before him. I told
him we'd quarreled--and he knows I followed after you. Just to-day,
Wiley; and then you can go. But if my father should think----"
"Well, all right," he broke in, and as they stepped out into the open
she slipped her hand into his.