A SLAP IN THE FACE
When I got out into the dark, where my hot face cooled in the wind, my
relief equaled my other feelings. Sampson had told me to clear out, and
although I did not take that as a dismissal I considered I would be wise
to leave the ranch at once. Daylight might disclose my footprints
between the walls, but even if it did not, my work there was finished.
So I went to my room and packed my few belongings.
The night was dark, windy, stormy, yet there was no rain. I hoped as
soon as I got clear of the ranch to lose something of the pain I felt.
But long after I had tramped out into the open there was a lump in my
throat and an ache in my breast. And all my thought centered round
Sally.
What a game and loyal little girl she had turned out to be! I was
absolutely at a loss concerning what the future held in store for us. I
seemed to have a vague but clinging hope that, after the trouble was
over, there might be--there _must_ be--something more between us.
Steele was not at our rendezvous among the rocks. The hour was too late.
Among the few dim lights flickering on the outskirts of town I picked
out the one of his little adobe house but I knew almost to a certainty
that he was not there. So I turned my way into the darkness, not with
any great hope of finding Steele out there, but with the intention of
seeking a covert for myself until morning.
There was no trail and the night was so black that I could see only the
lighter sandy patches of ground. I stumbled over the little clumps of
brush, fell into washes, and pricked myself on cactus. By and by
mesquites and rocks began to make progress still harder for me. I
wandered around, at last getting on higher ground and here in spite of
the darkness, felt some sense of familiarity with things. I was probably
near Steele's hiding place.
I went on till rocks and brush barred further progress, and then I
ventured to whistle. But no answer came. Whereupon I spread my blanket
in as sheltered a place as I could find and lay down. The coyotes were
on noisy duty, the wind moaned and rushed through the mesquites. But
despite these sounds and worry about Steele, and the never-absent
haunting thought of Sally, I went to sleep.
A little rain had fallen during the night, as I discovered upon waking;
still it was not enough to cause me any discomfort. The morning was
bright and beautiful, yet somehow I hated it. I had work to do that did
not go well with that golden wave of grass and brush on the windy open.
I climbed to the highest rock of that ridge and looked about. It was a
wild spot, some three miles from town. Presently I recognized landmarks
given to me by Steele and knew I was near his place. I whistled, then
halloed, but got no reply. Then by working back and forth across the
ridge I found what appeared to be a faint trail. This I followed, lost
and found again, and eventually, still higher up on another ridge, with
a commanding outlook, I found Steele's hiding place. He had not been
there for perhaps forty-eight hours. I wondered where he had slept.
Under a shelving rock I found a pack of food, carefully protected by a
heavy slab. There was also a canteen full of water. I lost no time
getting myself some breakfast, and then, hiding my own pack, I set off
at a rapid walk for town.
But I had scarcely gone a quarter of a mile, had, in fact, just reached
a level, when sight of two horsemen halted me and made me take to cover.
They appeared to be cowboys hunting for a horse or a steer. Under the
circumstances, however, I was suspicious, and I watched them closely,
and followed them a mile or so round the base of the ridges, until I had
thoroughly satisfied myself they were not tracking Steele. They were a
long time working out of sight, which further retarded my venturing
forth into the open.
Finally I did get started. Then about half-way to town more horsemen in
the flat caused me to lie low for a while, and make a wide detour to
avoid being seen.
Somewhat to my anxiety it was afternoon before I arrived in town. For my
life I could not have told why I knew something had happened since my
last visit, but I certainly felt it; and was proportionately curious and
anxious.
The first person I saw whom I recognized was Dick, and he handed me a
note from Sally. She seemed to take it for granted that I had been wise
to leave the ranch. Miss Sampson had softened somewhat when she learned
Sally and I were engaged, and she had forgiven my deceit. Sally asked me
to come that night after eight, down among the trees and shrubbery, to a
secluded spot we knew. It was a brief note and all to the point. But
there was something in it that affected me strangely. I had imagined the
engagement an invention for the moment. But after danger to me was past
Sally would not have carried on a pretense, not even to win back Miss
Sampson's respect. The fact was, Sally meant that engagement. If I did
the right thing now I would not lose her.
But what was the right thing?
I was sorely perplexed and deeply touched. Never had I a harder task
than that of the hour--to put her out of my mind. I went boldly to
Steele's house. He was not there. There was nothing by which I could
tell when he had been there. The lamp might have been turned out or
might have burned out. The oil was low. I saw a good many tracks round
in the sandy walks. I did not recognize Steele's.
As I hurried away I detected more than one of Steele's nearest neighbors
peering at me from windows and doors. Then I went to Mrs. Hoden's. She
was up and about and cheerful. The children were playing, manifestly
well cared for and content. Mrs. Hoden had not seen Steele since I had.
Miss Samson had sent her servant. There was a very decided change in the
atmosphere of Mrs. Hoden's home, and I saw that for her the worst was
past, and she was bravely, hopefully facing the future.
From there, I hurried to the main street of Linrock and to that section
where violence brooded, ready at any chance moment to lift its hydra
head. For that time of day the street seemed unusually quiet. Few
pedestrians were abroad and few loungers. There was a row of saddled
horses on each side of the street, the full extent of the block.
I went into the big barroom of the Hope So. I had never seen the place
so full, nor had it ever seemed so quiet. The whole long bar was lined
by shirt-sleeved men, with hats slouched back and vests flapping wide.
Those who were not drinking were talking low. Half a dozen tables held
as many groups of dusty, motley men, some silent, others speaking and
gesticulating, all earnest.
At first glance I did not see any one in whom I had especial interest.
The principal actors of my drama did not appear to be present. However,
there were rough characters more in evidence than at any other time I
had visited the saloon. Voices were too low for me to catch, but I
followed the direction of some of the significant gestures. Then I saw
that these half dozen tables were rather closely grouped and drawn back
from the center of the big room. Next my quick sight took in a smashed
table and chairs, some broken bottles on the floor, and then a dark
sinister splotch of blood.
I had no time to make inquiries, for my roving eye caught Frank Morton
in the doorway, and evidently he wanted to attract my attention. He
turned away and I followed. When I got outside, he was leaning against
the hitching-rail. One look at this big rancher was enough for me to see
that he had been told my part in Steele's game, and that he himself had
roused to the Texas fighting temper. He had a clouded brow. He looked
somber and thick. He seemed slow, heavy, guarded.
"Howdy, Russ," he said. "We've been wantin' you."
"There's ten of us in town, all scattered round, ready. It's goin' to
start to-day."
"Where's Steele?" was my first query.
"Saw him less'n hour ago. He's somewhere close. He may show up any
time."
"Is he all right?"
"Wal, he was pretty fit a little while back," replied Morton
significantly.
"What's come off? Tell me all."
"Wal, the ball opened last night, I reckon. Jack Blome came swaggerin'
in here askin' for Steele. We all knew what he was in town for. But last
night he came out with it. Every man in the saloons, every man on the
streets heard Blome's loud an' longin' call for the Ranger. Blome's pals
took it up and they all enjoyed themselves some."
"Drinking hard?" I queried.
"Nope--they didn't hit it up very hard. But they laid foundations." Of
course, Steele was not to be seen last night. This morning Blome and his
gang were out pretty early. But they traveled alone. Blome just strolled
up and down by himself. I watched him walk up this street on one side
and then down the other, just a matter of thirty-one times. I counted
them. For all I could see maybe Blome did not take a drink. But his
gang, especially Bo Snecker, sure looked on the red liquor.
"By eleven o'clock everybody in town knew what was coming off. There was
no work or business, except in the saloons. Zimmer and I were together,
and the rest of our crowd in pairs at different places. I reckon it was
about noon when Blome got tired parading up and down. He went in the
Hope So, and the crowd followed. Zimmer stayed outside so to give
Steele a hunch in case he came along. I went in to see the show.
"Wal, it was some curious to me, and I've lived all my life in Texas.
But I never before saw a gunman on the job, so to say. Blome's a
handsome fellow, an' he seemed different from what I expected. Sure, I
thought he'd yell an' prance round like a drunken fool. But he was cool
an' quiet enough. The blowin' an' drinkin' was done by his pals. But
after a little while it got to me that Blome gloried in this situation.
I've seen a man dead-set to kill another, all dark, sullen, restless.
But Blome wasn't that way. He didn't seem at all like a bloody devil. He
was vain, cocksure. He was revelin' in the effect he made. I had him
figured all right.
"Blome sat on the edge of a table an' he faced the door. Of course,
there was a pard outside, ready to pop in an' tell him if Steele was
comin'. But Steele didn't come in that way. He wasn't on the street just
before that time, because Zimmer told me afterward. Steele must have
been in the Hope So somewhere. Any way, just like he dropped from the
clouds he came through the door near the bar. Blome didn't see him come.
But most of the gang did, an' I want to tell you that big room went
pretty quiet.
"'Hello Blome, I hear you're lookin' for me,' called out Steele.
"I don't know if he spoke ordinary or not, but his voice drew me up same
as it did the rest, an' damn me! Blome seemed to turn to stone. He
didn't start or jump. He turned gray. An' I could see that he was tryin'
to think in a moment when thinkin' was hard. Then Blome turned his head.
Sure he expected to look into a six-shooter. But Steele was standin'
back there in his shirt sleeves, his hands on his hips, and he looked
more man than any one I ever saw. It's easy to remember the look of him,
but how he made me feel, that isn't easy.
"Blome was at a disadvantage. He was half sittin' on a table, an' Steele
was behind an' to the left of him. For Blome to make a move then would
have been a fool trick. He saw that. So did everybody. The crowd slid
back without noise, but Bo Snecker an' a rustler named March stuck near
Blome. I figured this Bo Snecker as dangerous as Blome, an' results
proved I was right.
"Steele didn't choose to keep his advantage, so far as position in
regard to Blome went. He just walked round in front of the rustler. But
this put all the crowd in front of Steele, an' perhaps he had an eye for
that.
"'I hear you've been looking for me,' repeated the Ranger.
"Blome never moved a muscle but he seemed to come to life. It struck me
that Steele's presence had made an impression on Blome which was new to
the rustler.
"'Yes, I have,' replied Blome.
"'Well, here I am. What do you want?'
"When everybody knew what Blome wanted and had intended, this question
of Steele's seemed strange on one hand. An' yet on the other, now that
the Ranger stood there, it struck me as natural enough.
"'If you heard I was lookin' for you, you sure heard what for,' replied
Blome.
"'Blome, my experience with such men as you is that you all brag one
thing behind my back an' you mean different when I show up. I've called
you now. What do you mean?'
"'I reckon you know what Jack Blome means.'
"'Jack Blome! That name means nothin' to me. Blome, you've been braggin'
around that you'd meet me--kill me! You thought you meant it, didn't
you?'
"'Yes--I did mean it.'
"'All right. Go ahead!'
"The barroom became perfectly still, except for the slow breaths I
heard. There wasn't any movement anywhere. That queer gray came to
Blome's face again. He might again have been stone. I thought, an' I'll
gamble every one else watchin' thought, Blome would draw an' get killed
in the act. But he never moved. Steele had cowed him. If Blome had been
heated by drink, or mad, or anythin' but what he was just then, maybe he
might have throwed a gun. But he didn't. I've heard of really brave men
gettin' panicked like that, an' after seein' Steele I didn't wonder at
Blome.
"'You see, Blome, you don't want to meet me, for all your talk,' went on
the Ranger. 'You thought you did, but that was before you faced the man
you intended to kill. Blome, you're one of these dandy, cock-of-the-walk
four-flushers. I'll tell you how I know. Because I've met the real
gun-fighters, an' there never was one of them yet who bragged or talked.
Now don't you go round blowin' any more.'
"Then Steele deliberately stepped forward an' slapped Blome on one side
of his face an' again on the other.
"'Keep out of my way after this or I'm liable to spoil some of your
dandy looks.'
"Blome got up an' walked straight out of the place. I had my eyes on
him, kept me from seein' Steele. But on hearin' somethin', I don't know
what, I turned back an' there Steele had got a long arm on Bo Snecker,
who was tryin' to throw a gun.
"But he wasn't quick enough. The gun banged in the air an' then it went
spinnin' away, while Snecker dropped in a heap on the floor. The table
was overturned, an' March, the other rustler, who was on that side, got
up, pullin' his gun. But somebody in the crowd killed him before he
could get goin'. I didn't see who fired that shot, an' neither did
anybody else. But the crowd broke an' run. Steele dragged Bo Snecker
down to jail an' locked him up."
Morton concluded his narrative, and then evidently somewhat dry of
tongue, he produced knife and tobacco and cut himself a huge quid.
"That's all, so far, to-day, Russ, but I reckon you'll agree with me on
the main issue--Steele's game's opened."
I had felt the rush of excitement, the old exultation at the prospect of
danger, but this time there was something lacking in them. The wildness
of the boy that had persisted in me was gone.
"Yes, Steele has opened it and I'm ready to boost the game along. Wait
till I see him! But Morton, you say someone you don't know played a hand
in here and killed March."
"I sure do. It wasn't any of our men. Zimmer was outside. The others
were at different places."
"The fact is, then, Steele has more friends than we know, perhaps more
than he knows himself."
"Right. An' it's got the gang in the air. There'll be hell to-night."
"Steele hardly expects to keep Snecker in jail, does he?"
"I can't say. Probably not. I wish Steele had put both Blome and Snecker
out of the way. We'd have less to fight."
"Maybe. I'm for the elimination method myself. But Steele doesn't follow
out the gun method. He will use one only when he's driven. It's hard to
make him draw. You know, after all, these desperate men aren't afraid of
guns or fights. Yet they are afraid of Steele. Perhaps it's his nerve,
the way he faces them, the things he says, the fact that he has
mysterious allies."
"Russ, we're all with him, an' I'll gamble that the honest citizens of
Linrock will flock to him in another day. I can see signs of that. There
were twenty or more men on Hoden's list, but Steele didn't want so
many."
"We don't need any more. Morton, can you give me any idea where Steele
is?"
"Not the slightest."
"All right. I'll hunt for him. If you see him tell him to hole up, and
then you come after me. Tell him I've got our men spotted."
"Russ, if you Ranger fellows ain't wonders!" exclaimed Morton, with
shining eyes.
Steele did not show himself in town again that day. Here his cunning was
manifest. By four o'clock that afternoon Blome was drunk and he and his
rustlers went roaring up and down the street. There was some shooting,
but I did not see or hear that any one got hurt. The lawless element,
both native to Linrock and the visitors, followed in Blome's tracks from
saloon to saloon. How often had I seen this sort of procession, though
not on so large a scale, in many towns of wild Texas!
The two great and dangerous things in Linrock at the hour were whisky
and guns. Under such conditions the rustlers were capable of any mad act
of folly.
Morton and his men sent word flying around town that a fight was
imminent and all citizens should be prepared to defend their homes
against possible violence. But despite his warning I saw many
respectable citizens abroad whose quiet, unobtrusive manner and watchful
eyes and hard faces told me that when trouble began they wanted to be
there. Verily Ranger Steele had built his house of service upon a rock.
It did not seem too much to say that the next few days, perhaps hours,
would see a great change in the character and a proportionate decrease
in number of the inhabitants of this corner of Pecos County.
Morton and I were in the crowd that watched Blome, Snecker, and a dozen
other rustlers march down to Steele's jail. They had crowbars and they
had cans of giant powder, which they had appropriated from a hardware
store. If Steele had a jailer he was not in evidence. The door was
wrenched off and Bo Snecker, evidently not wholly recovered, brought
forth to his cheering comrades. Then some of the rustlers began to urge
back the pressing circle, and the word given out acted as a spur to
haste. The jail was to be blown up.
The crowd split and some men ran one way, some another. Morton and I
were among those who hurried over the vacant ground to a little ridge
that marked the edge of the open country. From this vantage point we
heard several rustlers yell in warning, then they fled for their lives.
It developed that they might have spared themselves such headlong
flight. The explosion appeared to be long in coming. At length we saw
the lifting of the roof in a cloud of red dust, and then heard an
exceedingly heavy but low detonation. When the pall of dust drifted away
all that was left of Steele's jail was a part of the stone walls. The
building that stood nearest, being constructed of adobe, had been badly
damaged.
However, this wreck of the jail did not seem to satisfy Blome and his
followers, for amid wild yells and huzzahs they set to work with
crowbars and soon laid low every stone. Then with young Snecker in the
fore they set off up town; and if this was not a gang in fit mood for
any evil or any ridiculous celebration I greatly missed my guess.
It was a remarkable fact, however, and one that convinced me of deviltry
afoot, that the crowd broke up, dispersed, and actually disappeared off
the streets of Linrock. The impression given was that they were
satisfied. But this impression did not remain with me. Morton was
scarcely deceived either. I told him that I would almost certainly see
Steele early in the evening and that we would be out of harm's way. He
told me that we could trust him and his men to keep sharp watch on the
night doings of Blome's gang. Then we parted.
It was almost dark. By the time I had gotten something to eat and drink
at the Hope So, the hour for my meeting with Sally was about due. On the
way out I did not pass a lighted house until I got to the end of the
street; and then strange to say, that one was Steele's. I walked down
past the place, and though I was positive he would not be there I
whistled low. I halted and waited. He had two lights lit, one in the
kitchen, and one in the big room. The blinds were drawn. I saw a long,
dark shadow cross one window and then, a little later, cross the other.
This would have deceived me had I not remembered Steele's device for
casting the shadow. He had expected to have his house attacked at night,
presumably while he was at home; but he had felt that it was not
necessary for him to stay there to make sure. Lawless men of this class
were sometimes exceedingly simple and gullible.
Then I bent my steps across the open, avoiding road and path, to the
foot of the hill upon which Sampson's house stood. It was dark enough
under the trees. I could hardly find my way to the secluded nook and
bench where I had been directed to come. I wondered if Sally would be
able to find it. Trust that girl! She might have a few qualms and come
shaking a little, but she would be there on the minute.
I had hardly seated myself to wait when my keen ears detected something,
then slight rustlings, then soft steps, and a dark form emerged from the
blackness into the little starlit glade. Sally came swiftly towards me
and right into my arms. That was sure a sweet moment. Through the
excitement and dark boding thoughts of the day, I had forgotten that she
would do just this thing. And now I anticipated tears, clingings, fears.
But I was agreeably surprised.
"Russ, are you all right?" she whispered.
"Just at this moment I am," I replied.
Sally gave me another little hug, and then, disengaging herself from my
arms, she sat down beside me.
"I can only stay a minute. Oh, it's safe enough. But I told Diane I was
to meet you and she's waiting to hear if Steele is--is--"
"Steele's safe so far," I interrupted.
"There were men coming and going all day. Uncle Roger never appeared at
meals. He didn't eat, Diane said. George tramped up and down, smoking,
biting his nails, listening for these messengers. When they'd leave he'd
go in for another drink. We heard him roar some one had been shot and we
feared it might be Steele."
"No," I replied, steadily.
"Did Steele shoot anybody?"
"No. A rustler named March tried to draw on Steele, and someone in the
crowd killed March."
"Someone? Russ, was it you?"
"It sure wasn't. I didn't happen to be there."
"Ah! Then Steele has other men like you around him. I might have guessed
that."
"Sally, Steele makes men his friends. It's because he's on the side of
justice."
"Diane will be glad to hear that. She doesn't think only of Steele's
life. I believe she has a secret pride in his work. And I've an idea
what she fears most is some kind of a clash between Steele and her
father."
"I shouldn't wonder. Sally, what does Diane know about her father?"
"Oh, she's in the dark. She got hold of papers that made her ask him
questions. And his answers made her suspicious. She realizes he's not
what he has pretended to be all these years. But she never dreams her
father is a rustler chief. When she finds that out--" Sally broke off
and I finished the sentence in thought.
"Listen, Sally," I said, suddenly. "I've an idea that Steele's house
will be attacked by the gang to-night, and destroyed, same as the jail
was this afternoon. These rustlers are crazy. They'll expect to kill him
while he's there. But he won't be there. If you and Diane hear shooting
and yelling to-night don't be frightened. Steele and I will be safe."
"Oh, I hope so. Russ, I must hurry back. But, first, can't you arrange a
meeting between Diane and Steele? It's her wish. She begged me to. She
must see him."
"I'll try," I promised, knowing that promise would be hard to keep.
"We could ride out from the ranch somewhere. You remember we used to
rest on the high ridge where there was a shady place--such a beautiful
outlook? It was there I--I--"
"My dear, you needn't bring up painful memories. I remember where."
Sally laughed softly. She could laugh in the face of the gloomiest
prospects. "Well, to-morrow morning, or the next, or any morning soon,
you tie your red scarf on the dead branch of that high mesquite. I'll
look every morning with the glass. If I see the scarf, Diane and I will
ride out."
"That's fine. Sally, you have ideas in your pretty little head. And once
I thought it held nothing but--" She put a hand on my mouth. "I must go
now," she said and rose. She stood close to me and put her arms around
my neck. "One thing more, Russ. It--it was dif--difficult telling Diane
we--we were engaged. I lied to Uncle. But what else could I have told
Diane? I--I--Oh--was it--" She faltered.
"Sally, you lied to Sampson to save me. But you must have accepted me
before you could have told Diane the truth."
"Oh, Russ, I had--in my heart! But it has been some time since you asked
me--and--and--"
"You imagined my offer might have been withdrawn. Well, it stands."
She slipped closer to me then, with that soft sinuousness of a woman,
and I believed she might have kissed me had I not held back, toying with
my happiness.
"Sally, do you love me?"
"Ever so much. Since the very first."
"I'm a marshal, a Ranger like Steele, a hunter of criminals. It's a hard
life. There's spilling of blood. And any time I--I might--All the same,
Sally--will you be my wife?"
"Oh, Russ! Yes. But let me tell you when your duty's done here that I
will have a word to say about your future. It'll be news to you to learn
I'm an orphan. And I'm not a poor one. I own a plantation in Louisiana.
I'll make a planter out of you. There!"
"Sally! You're rich?" I exclaimed.
"I'm afraid I am. But nobody can ever say you married me for my money."
"Well, no, not if you tell of my abject courtship when I thought you a
poor relation on a visit. My God! Sally, if I only could see this Ranger
job through safely and to success!"
"You will," she said softly.
Then I took a ring from my little finger and slipped it on hers. "That
was my sister's. She's dead now. No other girl ever wore it. Let it be
your engagement ring. Sally, I pray I may somehow get through this awful
Ranger deal to make you happy, to become worthy of you!"
"Russ, I fear only one thing," she whispered.
"And what's that?"
"There will be fighting. And you--oh, I saw into your eyes the other
night when you stood with your hands up. You would kill anybody, Russ.
It's awful! But don't think me a baby. I can conceive what your work is,
what a man you must be. I can love you and stick to you, too. But if you
killed a blood relative of mine I would have to give you up. I'm a
Southerner, Russ, and blood is thick. I scorn my uncle and I hate my
cousin George. And I love you. But don't you kill one of my family,
I--Oh, I beg of you go as far as you dare to avoid that!"
I could find no voice to answer her, and for a long moment we were
locked in an embrace, breast to breast and lips to lips, an embrace of
sweet pain.
Then she broke away, called a low, hurried good-by, and stole like a
shadow into the darkness.
An hour later I lay in the open starlight among the stones and brush,
out where Steele and I always met. He lay there with me, but while I
looked up at the stars he had his face covered with his hands. For I had
given him my proofs of the guilt of Diane Sampson's father.
Steele had made one comment: "I wish to God I'd sent for some fool who'd
have bungled the job!"
This was a compliment to me, but it showed what a sad pass Steele had
come to. My regret was that I had no sympathy to offer him. I failed him
there. I had trouble of my own. The feel of Sally's clinging arms around
my neck, the warm, sweet touch of her lips remained on mine. What Steele
was enduring I did not know, but I felt that it was agony.
Meanwhile time passed. The blue, velvety sky darkened as the stars grew
brighter. The wind grew stronger and colder. I heard sand blowing
against the stones like the rustle of silk. Otherwise it was a
singularly quiet night. I wondered where the coyotes were and longed for
their chorus. By and by a prairie wolf sent in his lonely lament from
the distant ridges. That mourn was worse than the silence. It made the
cold shudders creep up and down my back. It was just the cry that seemed
to be the one to express my own trouble. No one hearing that long-drawn,
quivering wail could ever disassociate it from tragedy. By and by it
ceased, and then I wished it would come again. Steele lay like the stone
beside him. Was he ever going to speak? Among the vagaries of my mood
was a petulant desire to have him sympathize with me.
I had just looked at my watch, making out in the starlight that the hour
was eleven, when the report of a gun broke the silence.
I jumped up to peer over the stone. Steele lumbered up beside me, and I
heard him draw his breath hard.