THE GUEST DEPARTS
"Well, mother! What are you doing, waking me out of my beauty sleep,
this way?"
"Don't speak to me, John Benton. This is no time for fooling. Not till
I've got my breath, knocked out of me by the plumb wickedness of this
world. That I should have lived to hear such things and not died in my
tracks!"
Upon leaving Mr. Hale's sickroom, Aunt Sally had traveled as fast as her
nimble feet could carry her to her son's quarters, in the old mission,
and had burst in upon his slumbers, with a mighty groan.
"What's up?"
"You ought to be, for one thing. There, lie still. I can talk and you
can listen--and you'll need support 'fore I'm through. That man! Oh!
that man!"
"Yes'm. Which one?"
"Shut up. You need spankin' as bad as ever you did. But--John, John!
The vilest wretch that ever trod shoe leather! The best, the generousest,
the noblest--and not here to say a word for his poor self."
"Mother, your remarks seem a little mixed. If you'll face the other way
I'll have on my clothes in a jiffy. Can't 'pear to sense things so
well, lying a-bed after daylight."
Mrs. Benton stepped outside the house and paced the beaten path with a
tread powerful enough to crush all her enemies, had they been in her
way. Swiftly, heavily, back and forth, with clinched hands and grim
lips, the woman was rather working her indignation to a higher point
than allaying it, and as the carpenter limped from his quarters he saw
this, and thought:
"She meant it. No time for fooling when she's stirred up that way. What
in the name of reason can ail her?"
After a plunge of his head in the water of the general washing-trough,
through which a fresh stream was continually piped, and a drying on the
roller towel suspended near it, his wits were clearer. Finishing his
toilet by means of his pocket-comb, he considered himself ready for
her story and for anything that it might entail.
"Well, mother?"
Aunt Sally paused and glared at him in such a vicious manner that he
felt as if he were again that little boy of hers who needed the usual
corporal punishment.
"Yes, but mother--what have _I_ done?"
"Done? Nothing! Not a man jack of you! Let that viper warm himself
at her very fireside, least to say, south porch, and not show him up
for what he was. Land! The men! I never saw one yet was worth shucks,
savin' hers and mine. If you was half the fellow your father was, John
Benton, or that noble Cass'us was--oh! if ever _I_ wanted to be a man
in my life I want to be this minute!"
The carpenter darted into his chamber and reappeared with a vial and
spoon.
"To please me, mother, 'fore you say any more, just take a spoonful of
this dandelion relish. Made it myself, you know, and warrant no alcohol
in it!"
The jester was rewarded by a boxed ear, but he had effectually arrested
his parent's wandering thoughts, and she burst forth with her news:
"That viper-lawyer-man has come to this Sobrante to accuse Cass'us
Trent of stealing! lyin! cheating! Cass'us, your best friend and mine.
Says there's a power of money missing, that was all consigned to him,
to purchase that Paraiso d'Oro for a community and never reported on!"
"What? W-h-a-t!"
John had laid his hand upon her shoulder like a vise, and she began to
whimper.
"Needn't pinch me, child. 'Twasn't I said it. You told me to find out
what he wanted here and I have. He pretends he lost his way, got off the
road he was showed to take and met Lady Jess in the canyon. Says his own
horse is up to Pedro's sheep pasture. Says----"
"_And you let him?_ Had him right there in your power and didn't knock
his old teeth down his lying throat?"
As John's wrath increased his mother's ebbed. She had passed her
indignation on to another, as it were, and felt the relief of this
confidence.
"No, I didn't. I left that for you to do. They was false ones any way
and wouldn't have hurt none. Hold on! Where you going, son?"
For the carpenter had started forward, as if intent upon instant and
terrible vengeance. Neither of them noticed that Jessica had followed
Aunt Sally hither till a girl's voice implored:
"Don't! That would let my mother know and it would kill her!"
"Captain! You here? You understand?"
"Yes--yes. They waked me, talking, and I crept to the upper hall to
stop them, so they should not disturb my poor, tired dear. Oh! I heard!
I heard--every--single--dreadful word!"
"Well, I'm going to fix him for it."
"John, wait--wait. I must think. My precious mother----"
Jessica rarely wept. Now she flung herself into Aunt Sally's arms and
sobbed in a way that set the carpenter raging afresh. One after another
the "boys" came out from the closed or open doors along the row. Some
because it was their usual hour for rising, others to learn the cause
of these early voices. But one glimpse of Lady Jess in trouble grouped
every ranchman about her and set each to hurling a torrent of questions
upon that good woman, who held her, without pause for any answer.
But John held up his hand and told the story. It belonged to them all, as
Jessica did, and the honor of Sobrante.
They heard it with little comment, save groans and occasional
mutterings, punctuated by fresh inquiries of Mrs. Benton. Considerable
mystery had been thrown about her cross-examination of her temporary
patient, and after all it had proved the simplest matter in the
world. Concerning his own personal affairs he was provokingly silent,
but he was as ready to talk about his business in that region as she
was to have him when, after a roundabout preparation, she brought
him to it.
"I am in honor pledged to do my best for my employers in the East, and
unwilling to remain here under false colors, so to speak, any longer. Who
is the most responsible person here, excepting Mrs. Trent?" had been
his words.
"I am," promptly replied Aunt Sally.
"Then you shall hear my story," and he told it.
The effect of it was to loose her tongue to its utmost. One may guess
the listener heard himself portrayed in colors he failed to recognize
and that he realized he had made a mistake in the selection of a
_confidante_. However, his purpose had been to do away with all doubt
concerning himself, and to do this with as little distress to his hostess
as possible. For that reason he had believed a woman would be his
best aid, but it proved that almost any ranchman on the place would
have been safer than she.
"Well, I ought to have known that a female who talks so much must
say something amiss, and I can't blame her for her indignation. In her
stead I might have behaved worse; and the thing now is to get over
this little weakness and go away about the miserable business, at once,"
he reflected. Then he watched her hurry out of his room and surmised
whither she would turn her steps. Therefore, he was not surprised when,
somewhat later, he also left the cottage to find himself confronted by
great Samson, quietly, but significantly, awaiting the stranger's
appearance. For the great fellow had naturally been appointed by his
mates to "settle that critter's hash and settle it sudden."
"Good-morning, Samson."
Silence.
"It seems so wonderful to me to wake and find this changeless sunshine,
day after day, as if no such things as storms could ever exist," said
the lawyer, pleasantly.
Samson's grimness relaxed to a slight degree. "Some kind of storms blow
in fair weather. Likely you'll meet up with one sooner'n you expect.
Step this way, will you?"
The sailor's expression was so formidable that, for a moment, all the
wild tales the lawyer had ever read of western desperadoes returned to
test his already weakened nerves. But he was no coward, and knew that
though in a most uncomfortable position, it was by no means a guilty one.
"Certainly."
Samson led the way, if walking closely beside the guest, as a constable
walks beside his prisoner, may be termed leading. Nor once did he turn
his angry gaze from the gentleman's face, and the riding-crop in his
hand swung to and fro, as if longing to test itself against some
enemy's body. The walk ended in the ranchmen's messroom, where Wun
Lung, released from the cottage kitchen, had already been impressed
into service, and was deftly preparing breakfast. Aunt Sally had
disappeared, but Jessica was there, perched on a corner of the dresser,
by which stood "Forty-niner," with his arm about her. All the other
workmen whom Mr. Hale had seen were also present and an air of silent
fury pervaded the whole assemblage.
The stranger's glance passed swiftly from one face to another and saw
no kindness on any. Even the little captain's eyes were bent downward
and her lovely face wore a sorrow it made his own heart ache to see.
Joe Dean lounged forward.
"Stranger, have you broke your fast?"
"No."
Another silence, during which the blacksmith poured a cup of inky coffee
from the great pot, hacked off a piece of bread from a dusky loaf, and
shoved them toward their unwelcome guest across the table by which he
had sat down.
"Eat, and be quick about it."
The color rose in the Easterner's cheek, but he made no motion to obey,
and after a brief waiting, seeing this, Joe threw the coffee out of the
window and tossed the bread to the dogs.
"There's a horse outside. It's for you. The poorest we've got,
because once you've bestrode him no decent man'll ever mount him
again. He'll answer, though, to carry you beyond this valley, and
Samson'll go with you to see you leave it for good. Then he'll turn
the beast loose and may the Lord have mercy on your dirty soul. _Get!_"
Mr. Hale did not stir. His own eye gathered fire and the pink in his face
grew scarlet, but his voice was calm as he inquired:
"Am I still at Sobrante, the home of gentlefolks? By whose orders,
please, this present dramatic scene?"
"Yes; this is Sobrante. The home of gentlefolks--you spoke the truth for
once. The home of Cassius Trent, the truest man, the noblest heart, the
whitest gentleman the good Lord ever made. The home of a man! and not
a free hotel for whelps! Ugh! If I had promised the captain--Lady Jess,
let me off that word! I must at him, I _must_--_I will!_"
Joe's attitude was full of menace, but Mr. Hale neither moved nor took
his own cool gaze from his enemy's face. Though Jessica had taken swift
alarm and leaped down to place herself beside the smith and clasp his
hand with her own.
"No, no. You promised, and I'm your captain. Soldiers obey their
captains and you chose me yourself. You are not to hurt him nor abuse
him, though, I, too"--here she wheeled about and faced her guest,
crying: "hate you, hate you! Oh! that's wicked. That's rude. But, sir,
how dared you say my father--the best man ever lived--kept--took--it
isn't true, it isn't!"
The lawyer rose, somewhat unsteadily. The sight of the daughter's grief
disturbed his calmness more than the affronts offered him by her bearded
henchmen. It was to her that he addressed the question:
"Am I permitted to say a word in my own behalf, Captain Jessica?"
A growl ran around the room, but she held up her small hand, protestingly.
"Yes. That's fair. My father always taught me to be fair. I'm sorry I
was--I wasn't polite----"
"No, you aren't," shouted Samson. "Don't you dare be sorry for
anything but the kindness you've showed that skunk!"
"Samson, it was you made me captain!"
"All right. I give in. Be as fair as you like, I can't help it."
"Tell us all there is to tell. As you told Aunt Sally."
"Thank you, captain. I'll be brief. I came to California, representing
a company, a syndicate, which had advanced large sums of money to
purchase, improve, and stock a vast tract of land called Paraiso d'Oro.
Though for a time due receipts and reports had been returned to the
syndicate for several months these had entirely ceased. Unfortunately,
the company had implicit faith in their consignee, and Paraiso d'Oro was
but one of their many enterprises. I had been their legal adviser in
other matters, and when my health failed from overwork, they suggested
that I should come here and investigate their affairs, while I could
recuperate at the same time.
"I set out on horseback from Los Angeles, my temporary headquarters,
without a guide and with many erroneous notions concerning both the State
and its people. You see, though I'd lived at the center of our national
civilization----"
"You're forgettin' Californy!" cried somebody.
"I'd led the narrow life of a man absorbed in one sort of business.
I traveled out of my way, and lost it. Then I met your captain in the
canyon and she courteously offered me the hospitality of Sobrante. Until
I reached this spot I had no idea that it was part and parcel, so to
speak, of that Paraiso I'd come to reclaim. Gradually this fact became
clear to me and from that moment I have been anxious to get away from
a hospitality I have no moral right to enjoy."
"Spoke the truth for once, liar!" grumbled Cromarty.
"You cannot feel it more than I, sir, nor more profoundly regret that
it is my misfortune to have undertaken a business which has now become
obnoxious to me. But a lawyer must look at facts. One Cassius Trent----"
"Take care!"
"Be quiet, Marty! Go on, Mr. Hale," ordered the little captain.
"Cassius Trent was the man whose hitherto probity and enthusiasm had
enlisted the interest of his New York friends. He represented that his
projected community would not only be an excellent investment for their
money, but a benefaction to humanity. They believed him and--well, their
money is gone, their community has not even a beginning, and the man
is dead. He seems to have been a person----"
"A white gentleman, sir!"
"Who could obtain a strong hold upon the affections and confidence of
all who knew him. I admire the qualities which gained your devotion and
I admire your loyalty to him. I am charmed with the home he created in
this wilderness--_for himself_--and I have the profoundest respect
for his afflicted family. I wish I had not undertaken this trust.
But I have so undertaken, I am sworn to my clients' interests, and I
must further them to my utmost ability. If the missing money can be
recovered I shall recover it, painful as my duty may be. And--that
is all. Good-by, little captain. It is my sincere wish that I may
find some explanation of this mystery, other than circumstantial
evidence seems to point. If I so find I shall return and tell you.
If not--good-by. Make my respectful regards to your mother, and thank you
for my entertainment."
He turned and walked to the doorway, nobody interfering; but there he
paused and asked:
"That horse you mentioned? Can I purchase him of you? If so I need
not trouble Samson for his escort, but will bid you, gentlemen,
good-morning."
A significant look ran around the circle of intent and lowering faces.
The lawyer's succinct explanation of affairs had impressed them, but it
had not altered one fact which most mattered to those hardy countrymen.
A dead man, their idolized master and friend, had been accused of black
dishonesty, and they had passed their own promise to their girlish
captain not to injure the accuser.
But they had not promised he should go scot-free. To some men shame was
worse than a bullet wound. It would have been so to them, and they did
the stranger thus much honor that they ascribed him equal manliness.
As he stepped across the threshold Mr. Hale found both Samson and John
Benton close beside him, at right hand and left; and when he was about
to mount the superannuated beast, which a grinning stable lad held for
him, he was pinioned and quietly hoisted into the saddle. Instantly,
a brace of straps secured him and Samson's crop cut viciously at the
animal's neck. Then the sailor sprang into his own saddle and, amid
the insulting shouts and jeers of the assembled ranchmen, the unfortunate
Easterner rode out of the mission courtyard--face backward.