"I can show you the tracks."
"H'm! You fool, they simply grew dim when they got to this door. I've
been here for some time. Go back and tell them to hunt some more. Go
up to the attic and search there. That's the place an amateur would
most likely hide."
The man growled some retort and left, closing the door heavily behind
him, while Ronicky Doone breathed freely again for the first time.
"Now," said the man of the sneer, "tell me the whole of it, Ruth."
Ronicky set his teeth. Had the clever devil guessed at the truth so
easily? Had he sent his follower away, merely to avoid having it known
that a man had taken shelter in the room of the girl he loved?
"Go on," the leader was repeating. "Let me hear the whole truth."
"I--I--" stammered the girl, and she could say no more.
The man of the sneer laughed unpleasantly. "Let me help you. It was
somebody you met somewhere--on the train, perhaps, and you couldn't
help smiling at him, eh? You smiled so much, in fact, that he followed
you and found that you had come here. The only way he could get in
was by stealth. Is that right? So he came in exactly that way, like a
robber, but really only to keep a tryst with his lady love? A pretty
story, a true romance! I begin to see why you find me such a dull
fellow, my dear girl."
"John--" began Ruth Tolliver, her voice shaking.
"Tush," he broke in as smoothly as ever. "Let me tell the story for
you and spare your blushes. When I sent you for Harry Morgan you found
Lochinvar in the very act of slugging the poor fellow. You helped him
tie Morgan; then you took him here to your room; although you were
glad to see him, you warned him that it was dangerous to play with
fire--fire being me. Do I gather the drift of the story fairly well?
Finally you have him worked up to the right pitch. He is convinced
that a retreat would be advantageous, if possible. You show him that
it is possible. You point out the ledge under your window and the easy
way of working to the ground. Eh?"
"Yes," said the girl unevenly. "That is--"
"Ah!" murmured the man of the sneer. "You seem rather relieved that I
have guessed he left the house. In that case--"
Ronicky Doone had held the latch of the door turned back for some
time. Now he pushed it open and stepped out. He was only barely in
time, for the man of the sneer was turning quickly in his direction,
since there was only one hiding place in the room.
He was brought up with a shock by the sight of Ronicky's big Colt,
held at the hip and covering him with absolute certainty. Ruth
Tolliver did not cry out, but every muscle in her face and body seemed
to contract, as if she were preparing herself for the explosion.
"You don't have to put up your hands," said Ronicky Doone, wondering
at the familiarity of the face of the man of the sneer. He had brooded
on it so often in the past few days that it was like the face of an
old acquaintance. He knew every line in that sharp profile.
"Thank you," responded the leader, and, turning to the girl, he said
coldly: "I congratulate you on your good taste. A regular Apollo, my
dear Ruth."
He turned back to Ronicky Doone. "And I suppose you have overhead our
entire conversation?"
"The whole lot of it," said Ronicky, "though I wasn't playing my hand
at eavesdropping. I couldn't help hearing you, partner."
The man of the sneer looked him over leisurely. "Western," he said at
last, "decidedly Western.
"Are you staying long in the East, my friend?"
"I dunno," said Ronicky Doone, smiling faintly at the coolness of the
other. "What do you think about it?"
"Meaning that I'm liable to put an end to your stay?"
"Maybe!"
"Tush, tush! I suppose Ruth has filled your head with a lot of rot
about what a terrible fellow I am. But I don't use poison, and I
don't kill with mysterious X-rays. I am, as you see, a very quiet and
ordinary sort."
Ronicky Doone smiled again. "You just oblige me, partner," he
replied in his own soft voice. "Just stay away from the walls of the
room--don't even sit down. Stand right where you are."
"You'd murder me if I took another step?" asked the man of the sneer,
and a contemptuous and sardonic expression flitted across his face for
the first time.
"I'd sure blow you full of lead," said Ronicky fervently. "I'd kill
you like a snake, stranger, which I mostly think you are. So step
light, and step quick when I talk."
"Certainly," said the other, bowing. "I am entirely at your service."
He turned a little to Ruth. "I see that you have a most determined
cavalier. I suppose he'll instantly abduct you and sweep you away from
beneath my eyes?"
She made a vague gesture of denial.
"Go ahead," said the leader. "By the way, my name is John Mark."
"I'm Doone--some call me Ronicky Doone."
"I'm glad to know you, Ronicky Doone. I imagine that name fits you.
Now tell me the story of why you came to this house; of course it
wasn't to see a girl!"
"You're wrong! It was."
"Ah?" In spite of himself the face of John Mark wrinkled with pain and
suspicious rage.
"I came to see a girl, and her name, I figure, is Caroline Smith."
Relief, wonder, and even a gleam of outright happiness shot into the
eyes of John Mark. "Caroline? You came for that?" Suddenly he laughed
heartily, but there was a tremor of emotion in that laughter. The
perfect torture, which had been wringing the soul of the man of the
sneer, projected through the laughter.
"I ask your pardon, my dear," said John Mark to Ruth. "I should have
guessed. You found him; he confessed why he was here; you took pity on
him--and--" He brushed a hand across his forehead and was instantly
himself, calm and cool.
"Very well, then. It seems I've made an ass of myself, but I'll try
to make up for it. Now what about Caroline? There seems to be a whole
host of you Westerners annoying her."
"Only one: I'm acting as his agent."
"And what do you expect?"
"I expect that you will send for her and tell her that she is free to
go down with me--leave this house--and take a ride or a walk with me."
"As much as that? If you have to talk to her, why not do the talking
here?"
"I dunno," replied Ronicky Doone. "I figure she'd think too much about
you all the time."
"The basilisk, eh?" asked John Mark. "Well, you are going to persuade
her to go to Bill Gregg?"
"You know the name, eh?"
"Yes, I have a curious stock of useless information."
"Well, you're right; I'm going to try to get her back for Bill."
"But you can't expect me to assent to that?"
"I sure do."
"And why? This Caroline Smith may be a person of great value to me."
"I have no doubt she is, but I got a good argument."
"What is it?"
"The gun, partner."
"And, if you couldn't get the girl--but see how absurd the whole thing
is, Ronicky Doone! I send for the girl; I request her to go down with
you to the street and take a walk, because you wish to talk to her.
Heavens, man, I can't persuade her to go with a stranger at night!
Surely you see that!"
"I'll do that persuading," said Ronicky Doone calmly.
"And, when you're on the streets with the girl, do you suppose I'll
rest idle and let you walk away with her?"
"Once we're outside of the house, Mark," said Ronicky Doone, "I don't
ask no favors. Let your men come on. All I got to say is that I come
from a county where every man wears a gun and has to learn how to use
it. I ain't terrible backward with the trigger finger, John Mark. Not
that I figure on bragging, but I want you to pick good men for my
trail and tell 'em to step soft. Is that square?"
"Aside from certain idiosyncrasies, such as your manner of paying a
call by way of a cellar window, I think you are the soul of honor,
Ronicky Doone. Now may I sit down?"
"Suppose we shake hands to bind the bargain," said Ronicky. "You send
for Caroline Smith; I'm to do the persuading to get her out of the
house. We're safe to the doors of the house; the minute we step into
the street, you're free to do anything you want to get either of us.
Will you shake on that?"
For a moment the leader hesitated, then his fingers closed over the
extended hand of Ronicky Doone and clamped down on them like so many
steel wires contracting. At the same time a flush of excitement and
fierceness passed over the face of John Mark. Ronicky Doone, taken
utterly by surprise, was at a great disadvantage. Then he put the
whole power of his own hand into the grip, and it was like iron
meeting iron. A great rage came in the eyes of John Mark; a great
wonder came in the eyes of the Westerner. Where did John Mark get his
sudden strength?
"Well," said Ronicky, "we've shaken hands, and now you can do what you
please! Sit down, leave the room--anything." He shoved his gun away
in his clothes. That brought a start from John Mark and a flash of
eagerness, but he repressed the idea, after a single glance at the
girl.
"We've shaken hands," he admitted slowly, as though just realizing the
full extent of the meaning of that act. "Very well, Ronicky, I'll send
for Caroline Smith, and more power to your tongue, but you'll never
get her away from this house without force."