THE "KILLING"
For an instant following the attack there was no change in the scene
inside the cabin. Surprise that Lawler had escaped his blow seemed to
retard Link's movements quite as much as the force of his fall. For he
floundered on the floor, unable to get his feet under him; while the
bitter wind, howling in through the open door, hurled a blinding
avalanche of white clear to the fireplace. On the floor in the smother
of white was Link, and near him the handle of the axe stuck rigidly
upward, its blade buried deeply in the floor.
Della Wharton had been watching Lawler as he opened the door, and she
had seen what quickly had followed. Now, though a nameless terror had
seized her, she still watched, unable to withdraw her gaze, powerless to
move or to open her lips.
She saw Lawler standing where he had halted when he had opened the
door--one hand grasping the bar that he had lifted when he had drawn the
door back; the other hanging at his side. She saw him dimly through the
driving mist that was between them, but he loomed big, gigantic, as he
stood there, motionless in the instant following the attack, watching
Link.
Then the scene changed swiftly. Link was still on the floor when Givens
leaped into the cabin. He held a heavy piece of cordwood in one hand,
and as he entered the door he paused for an instant, plainly blinded by
the light and the snow. His face was hideous with passion.
Until now, the lamp had been fluttering in the rush of wind. As Givens
stood, trying to peer around him, the light spluttered and went out,
plunging the cabin into a darkness but little relieved by the dull, red
flames in the fireplace.
It was still light enough for the girl to see, however; and she gasped
as she watched Link scramble to his feet and lunge toward the axe. Then
the semi-darkness was rent by a flame streak that started from where
Lawler stood, and the air of the cabin rocked with a deafening roar. She
saw Link go down in a heap, and before she could draw a breath another
lancelike flame darted from the point where Lawler stood. She saw Givens
stagger; heard the heavy piece of cordwood thud to the floor; saw Givens
plunge backward through the door to land in the big drift outside.
Then she huddled down into the bunk, covering her face with her hands,
shuddering, cringing from the horror she had witnessed.
When she again opened her eyes the lamp had been lighted and the door
closed. For a long time she did not move, dreading to peer from the
bunk, lest she see a thing that would remind her of the tragedy.
But when, after a while, she found courage to look, she saw Lawler
standing near the fireplace, looking down into the flames, his back to
her.
The axe, she noted, shuddering, was standing on the floor near the
woodpile; and there was no sign of Link or Givens.
For a long time she was silent, watching Lawler, a dread wonder filling
her. And at last, when the continuing silence began to affect her with
its horrible monotony, she said, quaveringly:
"Did--you--Are they _dead_?"
"Yes," said Lawler, gruffly; "I took them out back of the windbreak." He
wheeled, to look straight at her, his gaze level and somber.
"I had to do it--there was no other way. I'm sorry you had to see it."
That was all. He did not speak to her again. For a long time she watched
him, but he did not change position--standing there, tall, big, seeming
to brood into the dancing flames that cast grotesque figures over the
walls of the cabin.