WITH FANGS BARED
That Sunday afternoon Janet Hosmer had awakened about sunset from an
after-dinner sleep, rested and refreshed, with her mind continuing to
be occupied by thoughts of Steele Weir about whom had eddied her
dreams. The man was no longer the mystery he had been, since now she
knew all the circumstances of his life, and on that account was
nearer, more human, and yet as compelling.
That on his part his interest went beyond mere friendship she had
recognized from his voice and eyes when they were together. Ah, in
truth, how his tones deepened and his look betrayed his feelings! At
the thought Janet's heart beat faster and her cheeks grew warm and an
indefinable joy seemed to fill her breast. She would not deny it: his
presence, his touch gave her a greater happiness than she had ever
known. At a single stride, as it were, he had come into the middle of
her life and dominated her mind and changed her whole outlook.
How he too had changed and grown in the coming! From the avaricious,
calculating, heartless manager of the construction work, as she seeing
through colored San Mateo eyes had believed him to be, he now stood
forth a figure of power, undaunted by difficulties, undismayed by
enemies however numerous, fearless to a fault, stern perhaps--but who
would not have been made stern in his place?--and determined, cool,
resourceful, alert, and of an integrity as firm and upright as a
marble shaft. Yet beneath this exterior his heart was quick and tender
for those who needed sympathy or help, and his hand swift to aid.
More than once a hot flush burned on Janet's face, as sitting there on
the vine-hung veranda in the gathering dusk, recollection assailed her
with memories of wasted kindnesses given the infamous Ed Sorenson, of
trust bestowed and of love plighted. That passage in her life seemed
to leave her contaminated forever. It burned in her soul like a
disgrace or a dishonorable act. But Steele Weir--and she swam in
glorious ether at the thought--did not appear to view it in that
light.
Juanita running in the twilight to the house interrupted her
introspection.
"I came to tell you," the Mexican girl exclaimed panting before
Janet.
"Tell me what?" For Juanita's reappearance in itself was unusual, as
Sunday afternoon and evening were her own to spend at home.
"People are saying Mr. Weir is to be arrested and hanged from a tree
in the court house yard! Everybody has come to town to see. Three
uncles and aunts and nine cousins of ours have already come to our
house from where they live four miles down the river. All the town is
talking about it. But though I said nothing, I knew how Mr. Weir had
saved you and that he had done nothing to be hanged for. If anybody is
to be killed it ought to be that Ed Sorenson."
"Are you sure of this, Juanita?"
"Yes, yes, Miss Janet. It is so."
"Then this is part of the plot against him; let me think. They might
arrest him but they would never dare try to hang him, unless they
could pretend----"
What they might pretend Janet never stated, as at that instant a motor
car dashed up and stopped before the gate. Even in the gloom she made
out that the figure garbed in a gray dust coat was Sorenson's.
Springing out of the machine, he jerked the gate open and strode
towards the house, while a premonition of a fresh and unpleasant turn
of affairs quivered in Janet's mind.
"I've come back again, you see," he said. "Step inside where you can
hear what I have to say."
The words were like an order; the man's manner, indeed, was
overbearing and brutal. But the girl concealing her resentment,
preceded him into the house and bade Juanita light a lamp.
"And now you get out!" Sorenson commanded the servant in so savage a
tone that she fled to the kitchen without waiting to consult Janet's
eyes. "I see your father isn't here," he continued, addressing Janet.
The latter made no reply. To be sure, Dr. Hosmer was not in the room
but he was in the house, sleeping. Let the cattleman think him absent
if he wished.
"So much the better; if he's not about, he won't try to interfere,"
the man went on. "Now, my girl, I've learned all about your tricks,
and----"
"Sir, you talk like that to me in my own house!" Janet broke in, with
a flash of eyes. "You will walk out of that door this instant and
never set foot here again."
"Will I, you slippery young Jezebel? I'll do nothing of the kind until
I'm ready, which will be when you've handed over that paper. Don't try
to deny that you have it or Weir has it; I suppose he has now, and
I'll be forced to go shoot him down as he deserves. But I came here
first to make sure. It would be just like the rest of the schemes of
you two to have you keep it, thinking I'd be fooled. I have half a
notion to wring your white neck for lying to me to-day--lying, while
all the time you knew my son was hanging between life and death."
So savage was his voice, so threatening his visage and air that Janet
retreated a step. His hands worked as if he actually felt her soft
throat in his clutch; his huge body and big beefy head swayed towards
her ominously; while his eyes carried a baleful light that revealed in
full intensity the man's real brutal soul. Hitherto carefully coated
in an appearance of respectability fitted to a station of wealth,
influence and prominence, he now stood as he truly was, domineering,
repellant, lawless. Janet could at that minute measure the close
kinship of father and son.
"Fortunately a man in Bowenville recognized Ed, or I should never have
known he had been injured," Sorenson went on. "So your little scheme
to keep me in ignorance went wrong. The doctor 'phoned me about five
and I took my wife and we rushed there, and I have just this instant
returned. Do you know what the doctor says? Ed will live, but be a
life cripple, a useless wreck, a bundle of smashed bones, always
sitting in a chair, always eating out his heart. And all because of
you and that engineer! Ed was conscious; he told me the real story
about which you lied,----"
"I did not lie," Janet stated, firmly.
Sorenson made an angry gesture as if to sweep aside this declaration.
"He told me how you promised to slip away with him to spend a week in
the mountains, and how you warned this Weir so that the two of you
could trick my son and get him out of the way. You, who always
pretended to be so innocent and virtuous! And then Weir caused the
accident up there in the hills that has crippled my boy for life! Did
it to get him out of the path to you, and you helped, like the
traitress you are; and the two of you took the paper."
Janet's form had stiffened at these insulting speeches.
"Your son is the liar," said she. "Did he tell you how he flung a
blanket over my head as Juanita and I were coming out of Martinez'
office? How he tied my hands and feet and carried me off like a
victim--and victim he intended me to be! Yes, Mr. Weir rescued me
because Juanita met and told him what had happened and he followed.
Your son was drunk. He tried to commit a crime because I had rejected
him a week before, on learning that during our engagement he had
endeavored to mislead another girl. A drunkard and a criminal both,
that's your son. And he alone brought on his accident by his drunken,
reckless driving. Now I've told you the truth; leave the house!"
"You can't put that kind of a story over on me," he snarled. "I
believe what Ed said. Even if he has had affairs with other girls,
that makes no difference now. You tried to double-cross him; you've
wrecked his body and life; and you shall pay for it."
Neither of the pair in their intense excitement had heard a wagon
drive to a stop before the house. Whether in fact they would have
heard a peal of thunder might be a question. Sorenson, enraged by his
son's injury and burning for revenge, was oblivious to all else but
his passion, while Janet Hosmer, divided between contempt and fear,
had but the single thought of ridding herself of the man.
"You cannot injure me," she said, in reply to his savage utterance.
"I'll drive you and your father out of this town and this state," he
exclaimed. "They shall know here in San Mateo, and wherever you go if
it's in my power to reach there, what sort of a pretending,
double-faced, disreputable wanton----"
"You coward!" Janet burst out.
Then she turned to flee out of the room to arouse her father. But
Sorenson was too quick for her; he sprang forward and seized one of
her wrists.
"No you don't, you perfumed wench!" he growled.
A scream formed on Janet's lips. The heavy, rage-crimsoned face bent
over her as if to kill her by its very nearness. Brute the man was,
and as a brute he appeared determined she should feel his power. She
pulled back, jerking to free herself, and shrieked.
Intervention came from an unexpected quarter. Rushing into the room
came the rancher Johnson, followed by his daughter.
"Let go of her," the man ordered, harshly.
Sorenson looked about over his shoulder.
"Keep out of this, and get out," he answered.
Johnson leaped forward and struck the other on the jaw. The cattleman
releasing his hold on Janet staggered back, at the same time thrusting
a hand under his coat.
But the rancher's pistol was whipped forth first.
"You'd try that game, would you?" Johnson said, with his ragged beard
out-thrust and stiff. "Put up your hands; I want to see how they look
sticking up over your head."
Sorenson though now holding them in sight did not at once comply.
"Johnson, you're butting into something that doesn't concern you," he
said, endeavoring to speak calmly.
"You've made one mistake in striking me; don't make another by keeping
that gun pointed at my head. Remember I've a mortgage on your place
that you'll wish renewed one of these days."
The expression of scorn on the rancher's face was complete.
"Trying that line, are you?" he sneered. "Think you can play the
money-lender now and scare me? You didn't look much like a banker
reaching for your gun; you just looked like a killer then, a plain
bar-room killer--but I beat you to the draw. You've got fat and slow,
haven't you, since early days when you use to put lead into poor
devils whose stuff you wanted. And you didn't look like a banker to
me, either, trying to bulldoze Janet when I came in; you looked like
the big dirty coward you are. Aha, here's the doctor! Now just tell
him how it comes you can order me out of his house, and why you were
threatening Janet and making her scream."
The physician turned a white, angry countenance to Sorenson.
"I heard the scream. Is it true you were abusing my daughter?" he
demanded, stepping in front of the man.
"I came here because I learned my son Ed had been broken to bits
through her trickery and damnable----"
The words were cut off by the doctor's hand which smote the
blasphemous lips uttering them.
Even more than Johnson's blow did this slap upon the mouth enrage the
cattleman. His face became congested, his shoulders heaved, but behind
the doctor was the revolver still directed at his head.
"You've come here uninvited and you've said too much," Doctor Hosmer
stated in cold even tones. "You may be the town magnate, but you're
only a ruffian and a crook after all. You can't bluff or bully us.
More than that, you've insulted my daughter and me beyond any future
reparation. As for your son, he got less than he deserved." He turned
to the rancher. "You came just in time, it seems. Please see that he
leaves the house."
Johnson waved with his gun significantly towards the door.
"Move right along lively," he added. "And I'll go along with you to
see that you don't hamstring my horses, which I don't put past an
underhanded cattle-thief like you."
Sorenson seemed striving for words that would adequately blast those
before him, but they appeared lacking. With a last malignant glare he
walked out upon the veranda and down across the yard, with his guard
following him.
When Johnson returned after Sorenson's departure in his car, he was
grinning sardonically.
"I shouldn't want him running among my cattle; he'd bite 'em and give
'em the rabies," he remarked.
Janet caught and pressed his toil-roughened hand.
"You'll never know how much I thank you for coming in just when you
did," she cried.
"Pshaw, your father would have showed up and stopped him."
"I'm not so sure. Father has no weapon, and that man did have one. It
was the sight of your pistol that made him cower. You couldn't have
chosen a more lucky minute to arrive."
"Well, it was a little bit timely, as it turned out. Considering too
that we were coming to see you anyway, it was just as well to walk in
when we could do some good. Mary has something for you to read, if you
read Spanish."
"Yes, I do."
"That's good. Show 'em what you have, daughter."
Mary drew a knotted handkerchief from her bosom and undid the knots.
Appeared the doubled paper she had found. This she passed to Janet.
"Why,--why, this is the document I had!" the latter exclaimed,
joyfully. "Where did you find it?"
"Up by the smashed automobile, when father and I were at the cabin."
She exchanged a guarded look with her father. "There are names in it
that made me think it might be valuable. So when father came back from
Bowenville I showed it to him. But neither of us could read it. We
thought we'd better bring it to you to read."
"It is valuable, very valuable. I had it when I was seized by Ed
Sorenson and he took it away from me. Evidently, then, it fell from
his pocket at the time of the accident. Yes, indeed, it's important.
It means everything to certain parties. I'll read it, but you
understand what it tells is private at present."
"We understand--and I think I know what it's going to say," Johnson
remarked, grimly.
Thereupon while the others listened Janet read a translation of the
long document. To her and her father the facts were not new, for Weir
had already related such as he knew of the happenings in Vorse's
saloon on that eventful day thirty years previous. Nor for that matter
were they strange to Johnson and his daughter, though of course
neither Janet nor her father were aware of the rancher's more intimate
knowledge of the subject.
"A pretty good story as far as it goes, but like all lawyers' papers
long-winded," Johnson stated, critically.
"What do you mean, far as it goes?" Janet asked, curiously. "Did you
know this old Mexican? Did you ever hear him tell about the thing?"
"I knew he was there at the time, but he never told me anything."
Here Dr. Hosmer spoke.
"Saurez died yesterday. It must have been shortly after he made this
deposition. He died in Vorse's saloon, which gives a color of
suspicion to his death. In addition, Martinez, as you know, was
dragged away somewhere."
"Then Vorse learned old Saurez had blabbed, and killed him," Johnson
said, in a convinced tone. "Vorse is a bad bird, I want to say. But so
are all of them, Sorenson, Burkhardt and Judge Gordon as well."
Janet brought the talk back to the subject.
"You make me still wonder, Mr. Johnson," she said. "You seemed to
think there's more to the account than is told in this paper."
Again the rancher and his daughter glanced at each other, hesitatingly.
"Tell them, father," Mary broke forth all at once. "They know this
much, and you know you can trust them."
The man, however, shook his head with a certain dogged purpose.
"If this is just a paper in some trifling lawsuit or other, it will be
better if I keep my own counsel," he stated. "I've riled Sorenson
considerable as it is now, and I don't care particularly about having
him gunning on my trail active-like. If it really mattered----"
"It does matter; it matters everything," Janet cried, "if you really
know something more!"
"Why?"
"Because it concerns Mr. Weir. The Joseph Weir described and named in
this affidavit was his father. He believes these men robbed his
father; this paper proves it, but not absolutely, for Mexican evidence
here in this country doesn't carry as much weight against white
men--especially men as rich and strong as these named--as it would in
other places perhaps. You know that. This paper was obtained for Mr.
Weir."
"Oho, so that's the way of it!" Johnson said, with a long drawn-out
tone.
He regarded the paper in silence for a time, busy with his thoughts,
absently twisting his beard, until at length a look of satisfaction
grew on his face.
"Well, well, this is fine," he went on presently. "I never thought I
should be able to pay the obligation I owe him, and I won't fully at
that, but this will help. No, that paper doesn't tell all, for I
reckon Saurez didn't see all." He glanced triumphantly at the doctor
and the girl. "But I did."
"You!" both exclaimed.
But before he could explain, the memory of the cattleman's threat
recurred to Janet to banish thoughts of aught else than Weir's danger
from her mind.
"Mr. Sorenson said he was going up to the dam to shoot Mr. Weir," she
exclaimed. "We must give warning."
"Did he say he was going himself?" Johnson asked.
"To get the paper, yes." Then Janet continued anxiously. "But the
paper isn't all. His son told him what occurred in the mountains and I
believe the man wants to harm Mr. Weir as well as to obtain the paper.
Perhaps he plans on gaining the document first, then killing him. In
any case, we must put Mr. Weir on guard."
"I'll just drive up there and tell the engineer," Johnson stated.
"Shouldn't be surprised if I got a chance yet to use my gun. You girls
can stay here."
Janet gazed at him with a flushing face.
"The man could go to the dam and kill Mr. Weir and get safely home
while you're starting with your team," said she. "No, we must drive
there in a car. Father, you take Mr. Johnson in yours, and I'll carry
Mary in mine. We'll go along of course, for we'll not remain here in
the cottage alone with such terrible things happening in San Mateo."
And to this there was no dissent.