THE SECOND SHOT
Four days later the physician gave Conrad dubious permission to return
to the round-up. "Well, I may as well say you can go," he surrendered,
"since you are determined to go anyway. But don't blame me if your
wounds get worse."
Most of this time the cattleman spent at the Bancrofts', where Lucy and
Miss Dent tried to make an invalid of him, and all three enjoyed the
comradeship that straightway sprang up among them. Between Lucy and
Curtis there was much bantering gayety, but when alone their talk was
sure to flow into serious channels. They had many long conversations,
wherein each was deeply interested in everything the other said. They
had much music also, Miss Dent playing and the others singing duets.
Lucy was very happy. She beamed and sparkled, with glowing eyes and
dimpling smiles, and her manner, the whole being of her, expanded into
maturer womanliness. Between Miss Dent and Conrad there was from the
first a mutual liking, which quickly developed into confidential
friendship. On his last day in town, while helping Lucy water the plants
in her conservatory, he spoke to her admiringly of Miss Dent.
"I'm so glad you like my Dearie!" she responded warmly, looking up at
him with a glow of pleasure. "She's the dearest, sweetest woman! And you
always feel you can depend on her. If you put your hand out you always
know just where you can find Louise Dent, and you know she'll be as firm
as a rock. She's been so good to me! And she's always so restful and
calm--she has so much poise. But, do you know--" she hesitated as she
stopped in front of the cage that held the tanager Curtis had brought
for her care. His physician had splinted its broken leg and bound its
injured wing, and together they were anxiously watching its recovery.
"It's been eating, Mr. Conrad!" she broke off joyously. "Let's give it
more seeds and fresh water!" As they ministered to the bird's needs
Curtis went on about Miss Dent.
"Yes; she seems to have a calm sort of nature, but when I look at her I
find myself wondering if that is because she has never been moved very
deeply, or because she keeps things hidden deep down. Her eyes are set
rather close together, which generally means, you know, an ability to
get on the prod if necessary; and sometimes there is a look in them that
makes you feel as if she might break out into something unexpected."
Lucy was looking up at him with the keenest interest in her face. The
southwestern sun had kissed her skin into rich browns and reds, and she
carried gracefully her slender girlish figure. Her head, with its
covering of short brown curls, always held alertly, gave to her aspect a
savor of piquant charm. Curtis looked down into her upturned face and
eager eyes with admiration in his own. Under her absorption in the
subject of their talk she felt herself thrill with sweet, vague
happiness.
"Do you know, I've been feeling that very same thing about Dearie," she
said in confidential tones. "She seems more restless lately, although I
know she's perfectly happy here with us. She has just the same quiet,
gentle manner, but it seems as if there might be a volcano under it--not
really, you know, but as if there might be if--if--I don't quite know
how to say it--if things just got ready for it to be a volcano!"
"Do you think anybody would know it," asked Conrad, "even if it was
really there?"
"I know what you mean--yes, she has wonderful self-control--I never saw
anybody who could hide her feelings as she can, and always does. I've
been thinking lately that if Dearie were in love--" Lucy hesitated a
moment while a deeper glow stained her cheek--"she's just the sort of
woman to do anything, anything at all, for the sake of it."
"Yes; and not get excited over it, either," added Curtis.
When Lucy went to attend to some household duties, Conrad sauntered out
to the veranda, where he found Miss Dent with her sewing. He happened to
refer to his boyhood; and she asked some questions that led him to speak
of his youthful struggles. She was interested, and wanted to know the
cause of his father's financial ruin. He hesitated before replying, the
matter touched so nearly the secret core of his life and thought. Few,
even among his intimates, knew anything about the vengeful purpose that
had motived half his life, and he disliked ordinarily to say anything
about the cause of his early misfortunes. But the habit of close and
friendly speech into which he and Louise had fallen, coupled perhaps
with a softening of feeling toward her sex that had been going on within
him, moved him to openness. "It won't matter," he thought. "She's such a
level-headed woman; and I've told Aleck already."
"I don't often speak about it," he said, "but I don't mind telling you,
for you are such a good friend of the Bancrofts, and Aleck knows the
story. Of course, you'll understand that I don't care to have it
discussed generally. My father's disasters all came from his getting
caught in a specious financial scheme engineered by one Sumner L.
Delafield of Boston."
An indrawn breath, sharp and sudden, made him look quickly at his
companion. "Have you hurt yourself?" he asked solicitously.
"Oh, I jabbed my needle under my thumb nail. Such an awkward thing to
do! It gave me a little shock, that's all. Go on, please. What sort of a
scheme was it?"
He told her briefly the story of his father's ruin and death, and
outlined the transactions that led to Delafield's failure. As he spoke
his heart waxed hot against the man who had caused the tragedy, as it
always did when he thought long upon the subject, and he went on
impulsively to tell her of his long-cherished purpose of revenge. She
listened with drooped eyelids, and when she spoke, at his first pause,
there was a slight quaver in her voice.
"You don't mean that you really intend to kill the man?"
"I do, that very thing. What's more, it's my notion that killing is too
gentle for his deserts. For, of course, my case is only one out of many.
And any man who would deliberately bring ruin and death into so many
households--don't you think yourself he's worse than any murderer?"
She forced herself to raise her eyes and, once she had met his gaze, her
own was cool and steady. But if Curtis had not been so absorbed in their
discussion he might have seen that her face was paler than usual and her
manner nervous, as she replied earnestly:
"But you forget, Mr. Conrad, that the man had no intention of doing
these things, and that probably he involved himself in as much financial
disaster as he did others. I've heard of the case before; I knew some
people once who--were concerned in it--who lost money by it--and I've
always understood that the failure was due more to Delafield's sanguine
temperament and over-confidence in his plans than to any deliberate
wrongdoing. Don't you think, Mr. Conrad, that killing is a rather severe
punishment for mistakes of judgment?"
He answered with the rapid speech and quick gestures he was wont to use
when under the stress of strong feeling. "I can't take that lenient view
of the case, Miss Dent. My conviction is that he got some money out of
the affair, though not as much as he is generally supposed to have
taken, and ran away with it. I've studied the case pretty thoroughly,
and I've trailed him along from one place to another for years. I'm hot
on his tracks now; and he knows it. I've followed him into New Mexico,
and I know he's somebody in this Territory, prosperous and respectable.
He can't escape me much longer."
She had been thinking intently as she studied the expression of his
face. "It's not worth while to try argument or persuasion with him;
opposition would only make him obstinate," was her conclusion. Her
manner was as composed as usual, and only her eyes showed a trace of
anxiety as she spoke, slowly and thoughtfully, her gaze searching his
countenance:
"Well, if you say you are going to take revenge upon him in this savage
way I suppose you will do it--if that chin of yours means anything. You
haven't asked my opinion, but I'm going to tell you anyway that it seems
to me unwise and unjust and most unworthy of you to allow such an idea
to become the obsession that this one has. But I want to know how you
managed to keep your family together. That was a wonderful thing for a
boy of fifteen to do."
"Oh, I don't deserve so much credit for it. Of course, I couldn't have
done it without help. Our guardian wanted to distribute us children
around among the relatives; but I wouldn't have it that way, and begged
so hard that at last he gave in. Two of my father's cousins lent money
enough to pay off the mortgage on our home, on our guardian's
representation that he should be able to save enough out of the wreck to
pay it back in time. He did so; and we children kept a roof over our
heads.
"A cousin of my mother's, a widow without children, offered to live with
us and keep house. We rented part of the place and lived in close
quarters in what was left. I worked like a Turk at anything and
everything that brought in a penny; and so, all together, we had enough
to eat and wear, and I was able to keep the girls and Homer in school. I
went to night school and sat up reading anything I could get my hands on
when I ought to have been in bed. It was hard sledding sometimes, but we
pulled through. And I had good friends who saw that I was never out of a
job of some sort.
"After a while our cousin married again and left us; but by that time my
sisters were old enough to take charge of the housekeeping, and we got
on very well. Ten years ago they both married, and I said to Homer:
'Let's sell the house and give the money to the girls; you and I can
shift for ourselves, and we don't want them to go to their husbands with
nothing at all.' The kid was game, and so we sold the place and divided
the money between Helen and Jeannette. Then I put Homer in school and
struck out for myself. I've sent him to college, and he'll be graduated
next year. But he's worked right along, and helped himself a heap.
There's sure good stuff in the lad.
"This Summer I'm not going to let him work; the rest of the way is
clear enough now, and I want him to come down here with me, and learn to
rope a steer and bust a bronco and go camping, and have a good out-doors
time of it for his last college vacation."
As she listened with her eyes fixed upon his face, Miss Dent's attention
had been half upon his story and half upon the man behind it, searching
out his character through his words. The conviction settled in her mind
that his vengeful intention was rooted deep, and that the more he talked
of it the more set would he become in his purpose.
"I like your story," she said. "It is one of those tales of human effort
that make one have more faith in human nature. But the climax you intend
to put upon it is--horrible!" He noticed the slight movement of
repulsion with which she spoke the word. "But that's your affair," she
went on. "Did I understand you--did you say--" In spite of her
self-control she was stumbling over the question. She masked her
momentary confusion with an absorbed interest in getting her sewing
together. "Did you say that Mr. Bancroft knows--that you have told him
this story?"
"Yes; I told him the outlines of it a little while ago, apropos of a
check I had from Delafield. The rascal thinks he can buy me off that
way. That shows he's buffaloed. But he'll find out I'm not that sort."
"No; I shouldn't think you were. But Lucy--does she know anything about
it?"
He looked up in surprise. "Why, no; of course not."
Bancroft was coming through the gate, bringing Judge Banks with him; and
Lucy joined them a moment later. The talk turned on the coming trial of
Jose Maria Melgares, the narrow escape of Pendleton from Melgares'
bullet, and the death of Gaines as the result of his own foolhardy
horse-play. They spoke of Little Jack Wilder's skill with the revolver,
and Conrad reminded Bancroft of their agreement to do some target
practice together.
"Let's all go out in the back yard now," Lucy exclaimed, "and Miss Dent
and I will shoot too! Wouldn't you like it, Dearie? Come on! it will be
such fun!"
While they were setting up the target Sheriff Tillinghurst came to speak
to Judge Banks upon an official matter; and Lucy asked him to stay and
help her shoot.
"You-all use my gun, Miss Lucy, and then you'll be sure to have good
luck," he replied, drawing his revolver from his pocket. It was a small
pearl-handled six-shooter, which the ladies admired, and the men jibed
at for its daintiness.
"That's all right," he answered good-naturedly. "This gun don't stack up
much beside a cannon for size, but I can pervade and pester with it a
right smart heap if I want to. It's a peach of a shooter, and it don't
show in my clothes. I never have anything on me but that, and I've never
seen the gun play yet where I got the worst of it. You-all try it, Miss
Lucy."
Lucy took the revolver, telling him that now she would be his deputy,
and, with plentiful instruction from Curtis, placed herself in position
and fired. She hit the bull's-eye and won much applause, until she
explained that she had fired with both eyes shut and that, if she had
made a good shot, it was because she couldn't help it with such a
splendid gun as Mr. Tillinghurst's. Miss Dent took careful aim and,
without lowering her arm, emptied the remaining chambers, making an
excellent score. She, too, won a round of applause, to which she replied
calmly, "Oh, I've known how to shoot for years, and when I am in
practice I do fairly well."
"You two fellows shoot a match," said Tillinghurst to Bancroft and
Conrad. "The judge'll be umpire, and each fellow use his own gun at
thirty paces."
Louise and Lucy stood at one side, where the Sheriff and Judge Banks
joined them, leaving Bancroft and Conrad to begin their match. Beneath
her calm exterior Miss Dent's thoughts were in a tumult, and fierce
resentment against the cattleman was rising in her heart. Had not Aleck
suffered enough already? Why should he be hunted down like this when he
was willing to make restitution, even after all these years? Oh, cruel!
to beat him down again, when he had won success and respect once more!
This man was a savage in his implacable desire for revenge.
Curtis raised his revolver. With both eyes open and without pausing to
take aim, he sent a bullet through the bull's-eye. "Delafield won't have
much chance against a man who can do that!" he exclaimed in a triumphant
undertone to Bancroft.
As the test of skill went on, it developed that the banker excelled if
he took time to aim accurately, while he of Socorro Springs was the
superior at quick shooting.
"It's my specialty in the shooting line," said Curtis. "You'd better
practise it, Aleck. It's the thing that counts most if you get into a
scrimmage."
He handed his hat, a wide-brimmed, gray felt, to Judge Banks, asking him
to throw it up, adding, "I'd do it myself if my left arm wasn't in dry
dock." He raised his revolver as the hat left the judge's hand; there
were three quick reports, and he sprang forward and caught the
descending sombrero on the muzzle of his pistol. The three perforations
in the crown of the hat were so close together that a silver dollar
covered them.
"Bravo!" exclaimed the judge. "I don't know but two other men who can do
that. Little Jack Wilder never misses the trick, and Emerson Mead, over
at Las Plumas, does it as if he were a machine and couldn't miss. If you
ever get a grudge against me, Mr. Conrad, I'll engage the undertaker and
order my tombstone at once!"
Bancroft turned away quickly. He swung his arm upward, fired, and found
that his bullet had hardly nicked the outer rim of the target.
"Don't pay any attention to your gun," Curtis admonished him. "Keep both
eyes open, look at the bull's-eye, and unconsciously you'll aim right at
it. If you get into a gun play, where it's a choice between giving up
the ghost yourself or getting the other fellow's, you want to fasten
your eyes on his most accessible part, point your gun that way, and
shoot on the wink. Between the eyes is a good place, for then you can
hold him with your own. That's the way I shall fix Delafield," he added,
dropping his voice.
Cold anger seized upon Bancroft as the picture of that gun muzzle close
to his own forehead came vividly into his imagination. Until now Conrad
had not mentioned the subject of Delafield to him since the day of his
return to town, and the banker's friendly feelings had renewed
themselves with the growth of his own confidence and with his desire to
compass what he wished without violence. But Curtis had only to speak of
his purpose in this cold-blooded manner for the banker to know that he,
too, was rapidly becoming as implacable as his pursuer.
Judge Banks was talking to Miss Dent about the view and the New Mexican
climate, and quoting Wordsworth on "the witchery of the soft blue sky."
She was compelling an expression of smiling interest, while her thoughts
were with Bancroft and his danger. The desire possessed her to stand
near him, to hover about him, as if her mere presence would protect him
from peril. The friendly revolver practice between the two men made her
sick at heart, and she was waiting with inward impatience for the moment
when she could propose returning to the veranda.
Lucy and Sheriff Tillinghurst were laughing and talking together in a
running game of playful coquetry on her part and admiring badinage on
his. "Now, Miss Lucy," he was saying, "if you-all are going to be my
deputy, you'll have to learn to shoot with at least one eye open. I
can't have my deputy shootin' around promiscuous with both eyes shut. It
might be used against me in the campaign."
"Oh, I'll keep both eyes open, just as Mr. Conrad says," she exclaimed,
taking the Sheriff's revolver from his hand. "Just like this," she went
on gayly, pointing the pistol straight at Curtis's face as he came
toward them, saying, "Now you must have another chance, Miss Bancroft."
Tillinghurst sprang forward as he saw her level the revolver and struck
it up with his hand. Her pressure on the trigger had been light, but the
contraction of her finger as the Sheriff knocked it upward discharged
the weapon. The bullet sang through the air; and she paled and staggered
backward, looking wildly from one to the other as she exclaimed:
"Oh, I was sure it wasn't loaded!"
"A gentleman's gun is always loaded, Miss Lucy," said the Sheriff, mild
reproof in his tone.
Lucy leaned, trembling, against Miss Dent's supporting arm. "I--I was
sure we shot out all the bullets," she stammered, looking wistfully at
Conrad. "I'll never, never touch a gun again."
"Don't feel so worried, Miss Bancroft," urged Curtis, gently. "You
weren't pressing the trigger, and I'd have ducked if you had, for I was
watching your hand. I wasn't in the least danger, and you mustn't think
about it again. It'll be your turn next, Miss Dent," he added jocosely.
"Aleck had his the other day, and sent a bullet into the wall just above
my head."
"And you still have confidence in us, you reckless man!" Louise
exclaimed with a little effort at gayety, but with eyes on the ground.
"Perhaps he thinks he'll be in less danger if he teaches you-all how to
handle your guns," the Sheriff commented, as Miss Dent led the way back
to the house.