DORENWALD, CHIEF
Mary Gage, sitting alone in her cabin, could hear the hum of voices as
Wid Gardner and Annie Squires talked together in the open sunlight.
Presently she heard the footfall of Annie as she came to the door.
"Well, Sis," said that cheerful individual, "how are you getting on?"
"Couldn't you come in for a while, Annie? I'm very lonesome. What
were you talking about?"
"I just told that man out there I'm going to take you back home."
Mary Gage sat silent for a time. "We'll have to get a better solution
than that."
"It's a fine little solution you've got so far, ain't it now?"
commented Annie. "Highbrows always have to lean on the lowbrows, more
or less. You listen to me."
"Sometime, I suppose," she went on after a moment's pause, "I'll have
to talk right out with you. For instance, you being a farmer's wife!
Now, as for me, I was raised on a farm. When I was ten years old I was
milking five cows every day. When I was twelve I was sitting up at
night knitting socks for the other kids. That was before I got the
idea of going to the white lights after my career. Well, it's lucky I
met you, like enough. But me once talking of getting married to
Charlie Dorenwald! I should admire to see him, me handy to a flat
iron."
"But, Annie, I'd die if it wasn't for some one to help me all the time.
Some pay for that with money. How can I pay for it at all? Tell me,
Annie." She turned suddenly. "If I--if I could get my eyesight back
again, what ought I to do?"
"I wouldn't talk about that, Sis, if I was you. But just wait, there's
some one coming--it's him."
Mary could hear Sim Gage's rapid step as he came around to the door,
pausing no more than to throw down his horse's bridle over its head.
Sim Gage was excited. "Where's the Doc?--he been here this morning?"
"He went away less than an hour ago," replied Mary Gage. "How long was
it, Annie? Why?"
"Well, I got to go down to the dam. Something up in the hills I don't
like."
"Not those same men?" Mary Gage's face showed terror.
"I don't know yet. Two cars was in camp on the creek, half way up
towards the Reserve. I seen 'em and sneaked back."
"Telephone down, why don't you?"
"I hadn't thought of that," said Sim. "I ain't used to them things.
Say, Miss Squires, supposin' you see if you can get the doctor down at
the dam?"
But when Annie tried to use the telephone her ring sounded idle and
vacant in the box. The instrument was dead.
"Out of order!" said Annie, "right when you want it. When you want to
make a date the girls says, 'Party's line's out of order.' Of course
it is!"
"Well, then I'll have to start down right away. I got to see the Doc
about this. I hate to leave you alone."
"Let him go," said Annie to Mary Gage. "The soldiers 'll be back for
supper pretty soon."
"I've got to go over to Wid's," said Sim; "got to get another horse."
He turned and left the room without more word of parting than he had
shown of greeting. He walked more alertly than ever he had in his life.
He found Wid Gardner and told his news. His neighbor listened to him
gravely.
"It may be only some people in there fishing," said Wid, "but it's no
time to take chances. You say the wire's down? That looks so bad, I
reckon you'd better ride on down. How far have you rode today?"
"Round thirty, forty miles."
"Forty more won't hurt you none," said Wid. "The roan bronc can stand
it. I'll go on over and tell the women folks not to be afraid."
"Gee, but this is some quiet place!" said Annie Squires, as the two
women sat alone in nervous silence. "You can cut it with a knife,
can't you?"
"Did you say Mr. Gardner was coming over here before long?" asked Mary.
"Annie, I'm so afraid!"
"Hush, Sis! It's like enough only a scare. I wish't that doctor man
had stayed. But tell me, was he saying anything to you about your
eyes?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"He said he was coming up here in a week or two to take me down to the
hospital. He said he thought perhaps he could save my eyes! Oh,
Annie, Annie!"
"Hush, Sis! I told you to forget it. You mustn't hope--remember, you
_mustn't_ hope, Mary, whatever you do."
"No, I mustn't hope. I told him I wouldn't go."
"Some folks is grand little jokers. Women can't help stringing a man
along, can they? Of course you'll go."
She cast her arms about Mary Gage, and held her tight. "You poor kid!"
said she. "You get your eyes first, and let's figure out the rest
after that. You make me tired. Cut out all that duty and sacrifice
stuff. Live and get yours. That's the idea!"
"Now, you sit here." She rose and placed a comforting hand on Mary's
shoulder. "Just keep quiet here, and I'll go out and see if I can call
Henry Gardner. He seems to me like a man that wouldn't scare easy.
I'll go as far as the fence and yoo-hoo at him. I'll be right back."
But Annie Squires did not come back for almost an hour. Wid Gardner,
coming across lots by the creek path, found Mary Gage alone, and sat
with her there in an uneasiness he could not himself conceal, wondering
over the girl's absence. Mary was well-nigh beside herself when at
length they heard Annie coming rapidly, saw her at the door.
"Get back in!" she said. "Sit down, both of you! Wait, now--Listen!
Who do you think I found right out here, almost in our very yard, Mary?"
Panting, she seated herself, and after a time began more coherently.
"I'll tell you. I just walked out to the gate, and says I to myself,
I'll yoo-hoo so that Mr. Gardner can hear over there and come on down.
So I yoo-hooed. Did you hear me?"
Wid shook his head. "I didn't hear nothing."
"Well, I heard some one holler back, soft-like, 'Yoo-hoo!' It didn't
sound just right, so I walked on a little more. 'Yoo-hoo!' says I.
Then I seen a man come out of the bushes. I seen it wasn't you, all
right. He come on right fast, and Mary--I couldn't of believed it, but
it's the truth. It was Charlie--Charlie Dorenwald! I couldn't make no
mistake about them legs.
"When I seen who it was I turned around to run. I was scared he'd
shoot me. He hollered at me to stop, and I stopped. He come after me
and caught me by the arm, and he laughs. I was scared silly--silly, I
tell you. He laughs some more, and then he sobers down to solid talk.
"'Why, Charlie,' says I, 'it can't be you. I'm so glad.' I allowed
the best thing was to jolly him along. I knew he'd make trouble. I
wanted a chance to think.
"We stood out there so close I could see the cabin all the time--and we
talked. That fellow couldn't help bragging about himself. He was half
loaded. Says I to him, 'What made you come out here, Charlie? To find
me?'
"'Yes,' says he. 'I knew you was here.'"
"'How did you know it?' I asked him.
"'That's a good question,' says he. 'Haven't I got plenty people
working for me that could tell me where you was, or anything else I
wanted to know? The free brothers work together.'"
Wid Gardner's eyes were full on her. He did not speak.
"So we turned and moved further up the lane then," went on Annie. "I
kept on asking him how he come here. I told him I'd been too proud to
send for him. But now he'd come, how could I help loving him all over
again!"
"You didn't mean that," said Wid quietly.
"How much do you think I'd mean it? That Dutch snake! Listen-- He
told me more than the papers ever told. He told me he'd been a sort of
chief there in Cleveland right along, along in the war, and after peace
was signed. He pulled off some good things, so he said, so they sent
him out here. He was after me. Folks, that man took himself apart for
me. He made me promise to go along with him, all dolled up, and in our
own car!"
"You ain't going," said Wid, quietly.
"One guess! But there'll be trouble. I've only told you a little part
of it that that fellow spilled to me. Dorenwald's nutty over these
things. He tells what the German Socialists will do when they get to
America. He says this is the world revolution,--whatever he means.
Oh, my God!"
Annie began to weep in a sudden hysteria.
"Which way did that man go from here?" she heard Wid Gardner's voice at
length.
"I don't know. He said he had a man with him, a 'brainy-cat,' he
called him, to lecture in halls. He made me promise to be out there at
the gate at sun-up to-morrow morning to go away with him. I'd have
promised him anything. I'm awful scared. Why don't the men come back?"
Annie Squires was sobbing now. "And this was our country. We let them
people in. I know it's true, what he said. And I told him that at
sun-up----"
"Don't bother about that," said Wid Gardner quietly. "Now you two set
right here in the house," he added, as he rose and picked up the rifle
he saw hanging on its nails. "I'm going out and lay in the willers
along the lane a little while, near the gate. I can hear you if you
holler. I think it's best for me to go out there and keep a watch till
the fellers come back. Don't be a-scared, because I'll be right there,
not far from the gate."
He stepped out, rifle in hand. The two women sat alone, shivering in
nervous terror, starting at every little sound.
They sat they knew not how long, before the clear air of the moonlight
night was rent by sharp sounds. A single piercing shot echoed close at
hand; scattering shots sounded farther up the lane; then many shots;
and then came the sound of a car passing rapidly on the distant highway.