XI

Persia sat primly at the secretary which stood in a corner of her

parlor. She frowned, checked her addition. It was nice to have bank

accounts in three different towns, but she wished that just once they

would total as much as she had expected. The town was busier than it

had ever been and on paper she was making a good deal of money; but it

was all going to pay off Mr. Jay.

She shifted her chair to face Sam as he came into the room. He regarded

her as placidly as ever through his lenses, but she knew him so well

that she could sense a mild urgency about him.

"Mr. Jay is in my office," he said shortly.

"Oh?" Mr. Jay never visited the townhouse unless his business was very

urgent indeed. "Sam, is anything wrong?"

Sam moved his head negatively. "He has some instructions he wants to

give you personally. It's a simple matter, but he wants it done just

right."

They went at once to the office. Mr. Jay sprang up to take Persia's

hand in both of his. "Charming! More charming than ever!" he said,

throwing his head back to look her over. His alert little eyes danced

and his beard framed a smile as he devoted a second or two to looking

charmed. He led her to a chair as Sam slid into another. Mr. Jay stood

between them, hands clasped behind his back. He glanced from one to the

other and drew in his breath noisily.

"There are two men upstairs in Sam's rooms that I don't want seen

around town. They have been riding all night and are hungry. Now--"

Mr. Jay paused to smile crisply at Persia--"I want you to feed

them. Have your maid throw together a meal; soup, ham and eggs,

left-overs--anything that can be prepared quickly. You might say that

Sam has some old friends visiting him, something like that. Then you

or Sam take the food up to them--not the maid. In the meantime, Pinky

Bronklin will bring a bag of supplies here. These two men will take it

and leave. Their horses are tied out back."

Persia smiled faintly. "Aren't you going to tell me what nefarious

connivance I'm a party to?"

"Oh, it's underhanded," Mr. Jay said, "completely underhanded. If I

were suspected of being connected with it, my career would be finished.

But you'll guess it anyway, in the light of future developments; so

you might as well know now. Ben Vickers' big boiler reached Ellensburg

yesterday. He had a crew and a huge wagon waiting for it, so I expect

that by this time it's on the road. I--well, there's going to be an

accident."

"I wish now I hadn't asked," Persia said. "No one will be hurt, I hope."

"I certainly hope not."

"I don't like this, Mr. Jay."

"Of course not. I don't like it either."

"Does Vickers know the boiler's arrived?" Sam asked.

"Not yet, I think," Mr. Jay said. "My information is that his messenger

was delayed. I dare say that he will get word, though, before the day

is out. And I dare say he will send Mr. Tesno down there at once."

* * * * *

Finding no comfort in the solitude of his room, Tesno left the hotel

and strolled aimlessly up the street. His big Raymond watch showed only

a little after eleven. He would wait till noon, he decided, before

dropping in on Persia.

He stopped at the new tobacco store and bought a handful of cigars.

Lighting one, he sauntered past the livery barn and up the slope behind

it. Most of the timber had been logged off here, and brush and ferns

were already claiming the ground. Finding a degree of solace in the

faint warmth of the sun, he pulled himself up on a stump and found he

had a view that drew him out of himself.

It was a cloudless day, and the range jutted its ragged vertebrae into

a sky as blue as a mountain lake. Below him, the town seemed a naked,

ugly fungus sprung newly from the earth. The camp, almost hidden by

pines, was less intrusive. Beyond the gulch, above it, the crisp black

arch of the tunnel scarred Runaway Mountain.

_Here it all is_, he thought, _spread out in front of me. I've either

got to become a part of it or get the hell out._ He tried to plan what

he would say to Persia. He would tell her flatly that the time had come

for the gamblers to go, he guessed. He would ask her to have Madrid

clear them out, all of them. If she stalled or refused--well, he would

do it himself. Or resign.

The townhouse lay off to his left, and he found himself staring at

it, thinking that she was in there somewhere, wondering what she did

with her mornings. He watched two men come out of the back of the far

part of the building, each carrying a small bundle. At this distance

he could tell little about them except that they must have come up

from the cattle country east of the mountains. One wore woolly chaps.

Both wore Stetsons and walked with the peculiar swagger of men in

high-heeled boots. They disappeared behind one of the outbuildings,

and when they came into sight again, they were mounted on horses. He

watched them ride eastward out of the gulch. He supposed they had come

to sell beef or hay, or on some such business, and he quickly forgot

them.

When his watch read almost noon, he started downhill, avoiding the

street and heading for the townhouse. Persia answered his knock,

smiling when she saw him. It wasn't the polite and pretty company smile

now but a special one, personal and tender, an eager doorway closed

quickly behind him as she came into his arms.

"I'm glad you came," she said. She drew him into the parlor.

"It's been a bad morning."

"I heard about the accident," she said. She detached herself from him

and sat down on the sofa, crossing her long legs and smoothing her

skirt over them. "Is there anything anyone can do?"

"Not for the dead men."

Her eyes touched him warily. She said, "For you then? You ought to get

your mind off it."

"No," he said. "I ought to think about it. I ought to think a great

deal about it."

She nodded slowly, frowning. He seized the back of a chair and leaned

over it moodily. After a moment, she said, "I've been wishing all

morning you'd drop by. Jack, it's such a beautiful day. Could we--I

suppose it isn't a good idea, but couldn't we pack a lunch and have a

picnic? I know a spot where there's a creek and a little waterfall.

We'd be a million miles away from everything."

"It sounds fine," he said.

"We'll have to sort of sneak away," she said. "I wouldn't want Sam to

know. He'd want to come, too, I'm afraid."

* * * * *

It was after sunset when they came back into the gulch along a

forgotten skid road. They reached the kitchen door of the townhouse

at a remarkable moment when the entire sky was aglow, burning scarlet

beyond the bleak western peaks and cooling down to a grayish pink

in the east as night seeped into it. The buildings of the town, the

trees, the earth itself were suspended in a pinkish haze. Persia caught

Tesno's hand and halted him.

"It's almost frightening!" she said. "It gives you the feeling

something strange is about to happen."

He knew what she meant, but he grinned and said artlessly, "It will be

a clear day tomorrow."

Stella was at the back door then, saying dinner was ready and going

stale. Sam Lester met them in the kitchen. He gave Persia a questioning

look and turned to Tesno.

"Vickers is in there," Sam said, jerking his head toward the parlor.

"He's been combing the town for you. He finally learned from Stella

that you'd gone off somewhere with a basket of food--she didn't know

where. He's been camped in there ever since."

Tesno found Ben dozing in a chair. He leaped to his feet wild-eyed when

he heard his name.

"The boiler's on it's way up here!" Ben said. "It will move fast enough

until the road hits the mountains, and I expect it's damn near to Cle

Elum by now. If you ride all night, you can be there by dawn. Where in

the merry hell have you been?"

"Picnic," Tesno said.

"You could leave word where I could find you."

"I've been trying to think things out, Ben. I've decided to quit."

Ben clapped a hand to his forehead. "Not now! Not with that boiler down

there!"

"You could send somebody else."

"This job might need special talent, Jack. It just might be a dirty

one." Ben fell silent as Persia and Sam came into the room. He nodded

curtly at Persia. Suddenly he gestured violently and continued. "The

thing arrived yesterday. I had a crew standing by to unload it and

start it up here. A man left at once to bring me the news--should

have been here before daylight this morning. But he was overtaken by

a pair of toughs who beat him up, tied him to a tree, shot his horse.

He worked loose and walked eight miles in the middle of the night to a

ragcamp, where he borrowed another horse. He didn't get here till well

after noon."

"You think they did this just to delay the news?"

"Seems like it. And when you remember that phoney telegram--well, that

boiler needs you down there alongside of it, night and day, a gun in

your hands."

"All right," Tesno said. "I'll chaperone the boiler for you. After

that...."

"We'll see, we'll see," Ben said quickly. "Once I get that thing up

here and the compressors working, life ought to be a little easier for

everybody. I've got your blue roan saddled and waiting outside. You can

start right now."

"Not till he's had something to eat!" Persia said. She stepped up and

grasped Tesno's arm possessively.

Ben grunted. "Just so he's at Cle Elum by daylight." He located his

hat, clamped it on his head, and headed for the door. Sam Lester went

with him.

"Actually," Persia said, "I think that man is mad. Sit down and have a

drink, Jack. I'll have Stella get dinner on the table. Sam has already

eaten."

"I'll have to hurry," Tesno said. "Maybe...."

"Nonsense. Sam has work to do, and I refuse to be left alone. Not

tonight, Jack."