UNDER THE VEIL
There was no moon. Only a starry sheen lit the night. A wonderful
peace had descended upon the hills. The quiet was the hush of the
still prairie night. Teeming maybe with restless life; but it was a
life invisible, and rarely audible. Nevertheless the hush was merely a
veil. A veil which concealed, but had no power to sweep away the
garnered harvest of violent human passions.
The figure of a man lay stretched upon his back on the bank of the
river. His head was carefully pillowed. A covering had been spread
over the upper body, as though to hide that which lay beneath, rather
than yield warmth and comfort on the summer night. The covering was a
coat, a woman's coat, and the owner of it sat crouching over her charge.
Nan stirred. She reached out and tucked the long skirts of the coat
under the man's shoulders with that mother instinct at once so
solicitous, so tender. She shifted her position which had become
cramped with her long vigil. These were moments of darkness, literal
and mental. Her anxiety and dread were almost overwhelming. The
waiting seemed interminable.
She raised her eyes from her yearning regard of the still, bandaged
head with its pale features. She sighed, as she turned them in another
direction, toward an object lying beneath the shadow of a great red
willow near by. It was a dark object, huddled and, like the other,
quite still. A curious sort of fascination held her for some moments,
then, almost reluctantly, as though impelled by the trend of her
feelings, her gaze wandered in the direction whence was wafted toward
her a pungent reek of burning. It was the dimly outlined skeleton of
the station house, roofless and partly fallen, white-ashed and still
faintly smoking.
For long moments she regarded this sign of the destruction which had
been wrought. Nor was the sigh which escaped her wholly of regret. A
deep stirring was in her heart. She was thinking of the heroic battle
which the station home had witnessed. She was thinking of the
desperate odds one man had faced within those four walls. She was
thinking, too, of the victory which ultimately had been his. But the
cost. She shuddered. And her eyes came back to the white upturned
features of the man before her.
She started. The man's eyes were open. Tenderly she raised a hand and
smoothed the cold forehead with its soft palm. Tears of emotion had
gathered in her eyes on the instant. But they did not overflow down
her cheeks.
The eyes closed again. The lids moved slowly, as though reluctant to
perform their office. The girl literally held her breath. Would they
open again? Or---- Her question was answered almost on the instant.
They reopened. This time even more widely. They were staring straight
up at the starlit sky, quite unmoving. There was no consciousness in
them, and barely life.
Nan waited for some long apprehensive moments. Her heart was full of a
wild, new-born hope. But fear held her, too. At last she moved. She
withdrew herself gently but swiftly. Then she stood up, a picture of
dapper womanhood in the white shirt-waist and loose riding breeches
which the coat spread over the man's body should have held concealed.
A moment later the darkness swallowed her up as she sped down the trail
which passed near by.
With her going there crept into the man's vacant eyes the first real
sign of life.
Five minutes later the girl was back at his side. But she had not
returned alone. Bud was with her, and together they bent over the
prostrate form. The girl was kneeling. She had gently taken
possession of one of the bandaged hands lying inert at the man's side.
Tenderly enough she held it between her own soft palms and chafed it,
while her shining eyes, yielding all the secrets of her devoted heart,
gazed yearningly down into his.
"Jeff!" she murmured, in a low, eager tone. "Jeff!"
There was no response. The eyes were fixed and staring.
Bud had less scruples in his anxious impatience.
"Say, that ain't no sort o' way to wake him, Nan," he whispered
hoarsely. Then in his deep gruff voice he displayed his better
understanding. "Say, Jeff! You ken hear me, boy. You're jest
foolin'. Say, hark to this. You beat 'em. You beat 'em
single-handed, an' shot 'em plumb down."
Curiously enough there was almost instant result, and Bud's
satisfaction became evident. The staring eyes relaxed their regard of
the starry heavens. The lids flickered, then the eyes themselves
turned in the direction whence came those sonorous tones.
"You ken hear?"
Bud's words came on the instant, and were full of triumph. Then he
turned to the girl who had promptly relinquished Jeff's hand.
"We ain't got a thing to hand him, 'cep' it's water," he said
half-angrily. "We can't jest move him, not nothin', till the boys git
along with the wagon, an' that blamed dope merchant gits around. What
in hell ken we do?"
"Wait."
Nan's finality robbed her father of his complaint.
"Guess we'll hev to. Say----"
"Yes?"
"Do you guess he ken talk if he feels that way?"
But Nan was no longer giving him any attention. All her thoughts, all
her being was for the man before them.
A faint tinge of color was creeping under his skin, up to the soft
white wrapping fastened about his fire-scorched forehead. Even in the
starlight it was plainly visible to the girl's eager eyes. There was
something else, too. The look in his eyes had completely changed. To
Nan there was something approaching the shadow of a smile.
She moved close to his side so that she could reach out and give him
support. Then she gave the father at her side his orders.
"Get water, Dad--quick!" she demanded.
Bud demurred.
"I only got my hat," he said helplessly.
"It'll do. But get it."
Bud moved away, with the heavy haste of two hundred and ten pounds of
mental disturbance.
The moment he had gone a faint sigh escaped the injured man. Nan held
her breath. Would he--speak? She would give worlds to hear the sound
of his voice, She had believed him dying. Now a wild hope surged. If
he would--could speak, it seemed to her simple logic that he must--live.
"Nan!"
The word was distinct, but, oh, the weakness of voice. The girl
thrilled.
"Yes, Jeff. I'm here. I'm right beside you."
"Tell me--things."
The girl's heart sank. In a flash she remembered all there was to
tell. Why had his first thoughts on returning life been of
these--things? Yet it was like him--so like him. She drew a deep
breath and resorted to subterfuge.
"It's as Dad shouted at you just now, Jeff. You beat them
all--lone-handed. But you mustn't talk. Don't worry about them.
Guess they're not worth it. You've been shot up, Jeff, an' Dad an' I
we've just fixed you the best we know, an' the boys have gone right in
for a wagon, an' a doctor. The doc's got to get in from Moose Creek,
twenty miles away. That's what scares me."
The smile in the man's eyes had deepened.
"Don't--get--scared, Nan. I'm--not dying."
The girl thrilled at the assurance in the tired voice. But the thrill
passed as swiftly as it came. She knew what would follow when Jeff had
gathered sufficient strength.
Sure enough he went on presently:
"I remember everything--till--I dropped," he said haltingly. "What
happened--after--that? Y'see--I--heard--firing."
Nan glanced helplessly about her. If only her father would return with
the water! It might help her. She felt that she could not, could not
tell him the things he was demanding of her.
But again came his demand, and in the tone of it was a sound of peevish
impatience.
"What--happened--after--Nan? I need--to know."
"It all came of a rush. I can't just tell it right."
The man's eyes closed again. He remained silent so long that Nan's
apprehensions reawakened. She even forgot her panic at his persistence.
"Jeff! Jeff!"
Her call to him was almost a whisper. But the man heard. His eyes
opened at once.
"Yes, Nan?"
The girl laughed a little hysterically.
"I--I--was----"
"You thought I----"
"Yes, yes. But you are--better? Sure?"
The man's head turned deliberately toward her. There was astonishing
vigor in the movement.
"Ther's things broke inside me, Nan," he said, in a voice that was
growing stronger. "A rib, I guess. Maybe it's my shoulder. The
others--guess they're just nothing. Now tell me--the things I asked.
How did you happen to git around? Start that way."
A sense of relief helped the girl. He had given her an opportunity
which she seized upon.
"Oh, Jeff, it was just thanks to Evie. I guess she saved your life."
"How?"
The girl's enthusiasm received a set-back in his tone.
"She came right along over to us, and told us--everything--the moment
you'd gone. We followed you just as hard as the horses could lay foot
to the ground. Dad an' me, and six of the boys."
"What did Evie do?"
"She came along--too."
"Wher' is she?"
Nan made no answer. The question was repeated more sharply.
"Wher' is she?"
"She's under that red willow--yonder."
The girl's voice was low. Her words were little more than a whisper.
"Is she--hurt?"
"She's--dead."
At that moment Bud reappeared bearing a hat full clear river water.
Nan looked up.
"How can we give it him?" she questioned. Somehow the importance of
the water had lessened in her mind.
Jeff answered the question himself.
"I don't need it, Bud," he said. Then he added as an afterthought:
"Thanks."
Nan looked up at her father who stood doubtfully by.
"Set it down, Daddy. Then get right along an' look out for the doc,
an' the wagon. Hustle 'em along."
Bud obeyed unquestioningly. He felt that Nan's understanding of the
situation was better than any ideas of his. He set the hat down for
the water to percolate through the soft felt at its leisure. Then he
moved on.
The moment he was out of earshot Jeff's voice broke the silence once
more.
"Nan?"
"Yes, Jeff?"
"Wher's the red willow? How far away?"
"A few yards."
"Can you help me up?" The question came after a long considering
pause. It came with a certain eagerness.
But Nan remonstrated with all her might.
"No, no, Jeff," she cried, in serious alarm. "You mustn't. True you
mustn't. It'll kill you to move now."
Her appeal was quite without effect.
"Then I'll have to do it myself."
Jeff's obstinate decision was immovable, and in the end the girl was
forced to give way.
The sick man endured five minutes of the intensest agony in the effort
required. Twice he nearly fainted, but, in the end, he stood beside
the somewhat huddled figure under the red willow, gasping under the
excruciation of internal pains.
"I can lie here, Nan," he said. "Will you--help me?"
Exerting all her strength the girl helped him to the ground. The
position he had chosen was close to the still form of his dead wife.
Once he was safely resting again, Nan breathed her relief.
He looked up at her, and something like a smile was in his blue eyes.
"Thanks, Nan. Say--I'll need that coat of yours--later. Will you go
along--and get it?"
Nan moved away. She needed no second bidding. Nor did she return
until the man's voice summoned her.
"Nan!" he called.
She came to him at once bearing her coat in her hands. For a second,
surprise widened her eyes. He was no longer where she had left him.
He had moved a few yards away. And she wondered how he had been
capable of the unassisted effort. Then she glanced swiftly at the dead
woman. The covering over the body had been moved. She was certain.
It had been replaced differently from the way she had arranged it. She
offered no comment, but busied herself spreading her coat over the
man's bared chest, where the rough bandages had been fastened with her
father's aid.
Again she seated herself on the ground beside him, but now his face was
turned from her. It was toward the still figure a few yards away.
"Tell me the rest now, Nan," he said. "She did her--best--to--save me."
"More than her best. Say, Jeff, she loved you better than life.
That's why she's--there."
"Tell me."
A new note had crept into his demand. There was a hush in his voice
which gave his words a curious tenderness, reverence even for the woman
they were speaking of.
"Guess it must have been over in a minute. Oh, say, it was just the
biggest, blindest, most tremendous thing. It was too awful. She was
so beautiful, too. And then the love in it. I kind of shiver when I
think of it. We heard your shout, Jeff. Evie came right along with
us. She insisted. You see, I'd made her mad. I'd blamed her to her
face. I--I'm sorry now. But, my, she was brave, and how she loved
you! Well, when Bud heard your shout I guess it didn't take him more
than a minute to beat in the door they'd fastened. Him an' the boys.
The rest took seconds. We stood clear, as you said, guessing you meant
a run for it. The place was ablaze. When the door fell we saw it all.
You were near it. Beyond you were two men. Sikkem was one. They were
against the far wall, sideways from the door. They had guns in their
hands. They meant finishing you anyway, whatever happened after. But
there was a bundle of blazing stuff in front of them, an' it seemed to
worry them quite a deal. You started for the door. They got busy to
use their guns right away. Then something happened. We'd forgot Evie.
Guess we were plumb staggered. Something rushed past us, into that
blazing hut. It was Evie, an' she managed to get between you and them
just as you dropped. She fell where she stood. It was the shots
they'd meant for you. Then Bud opened on 'em, the boys did too, and
after that we dragged you and Evie out. Oh, Jeff, she just didn't want
to live without you."
A great sob broke from the girl, and it found an echo deep down in the
man's heart. Nan buried her face in her hands, and the sound of her
sobs alone broke the stillness.
The man offered no comment. He made no movement. He lay there with
his clear eyes gazing at the silhouette of that still dark figure
against the mysterious sheen of night. His look gave no key to his
thoughts or emotions. His own physical sufferings even found no
expression in them. But thoughts were stirring, deep thoughts and
emotions which were his alone, and would remain his alone until the end.