KIRBY AND I MEET
Sal remained seated behind the bar, nodding, and, so soon as I felt
reasonably assured that she was without interest in my movements, I
leaned forward and endeavored to arouse Kennedy. This was by no means
easy of accomplishment, and I was compelled to pinch the fellow rather
severely before he sat up angrily, blurting out the first words which
came to his lips:
"What the devil--"
His half-opened eyes caught my gesture for silence, and he stopped
instantly, his lips widely parted.
"Meet me outside," I whispered, warningly. "But be careful about it."
The slight noise had failed to disturb the woman, and I succeeded in
slipping through the unlatched door without noting any change in her
posture. Tim, now thoroughly awake, and aware of something serious in
the air, was not long in joining me without, and I drew him aside into
a spot of deeper blackness under the trees. He was still indignant
over the pinching, and remained drunk enough to be quarrelsome. I cut
his muffled profanity short.
"That's quite enough of that, Tim," I said sharply, and was aware that
he stared back at me, plainly perplexed by the change in my tone and
manner. "You are an officer of the law; so am I, and it is about time
we were working together."
He managed to release a gruff laugh.
"You--you damn bum; hell, that's a good joke--what'r yer givin' me now?"
"The exact truth; and it will be worth your while, my man, to brace up
and listen. I am going to give you a chance to redeem yourself--a last
chance. It will be a nice story to tell back in St. Louis that you
helped to kidnap a wealthy young white woman, using your office as a
cloak for the crime, and, besides that, killing two men to serve a
river gambler. Suppose I was to tell that sort of tale to Governor
Clark, and give him the proofs--where would you land?"
He breathed hard, scarcely able to articulate, but decidedly sober.
"What--what's that? Ain't you the fellar thet wus on the boat?
Who--who the devil are yer?"
"I am an officer in the army," I said gravely, determined to impress
him first of all, "and I worked on that steamer merely to learn the
facts in this case. I know the whole truth now, even to your late
quarrel with Kirby. I do not believe you realized before what you were
doing--but you do now. You are guilty of assisting that contemptible
gambler to abduct Eloise Beaucaire, and are shielding him now in his
cowardly scheme to compel her to marry him by threat and force."
"The damn, low-lived pup--I told him whut he wus."
"Yes, but that doesn't prevent the crime. He's all you said, and more.
But calling the man names isn't going to frighten him, nor get that
girl out of his clutches. What I want to know is, are you ready to
help me fight the fellow? block his game?"
"How? What do ye want done?"
"Give me a pledge first, and I'll tell you."
He took a long moment to decide, not yet wholly satisfied as to my
identity.
"Did ye say ye wus an army offercer?"
"Yes, a lieutenant; my name is Knox."
"I never know'd yer."
"Probably not, but Joe Kirby does. I was on the steamer _Warrior_
coming down when he robbed old Judge Beaucaire. That was what got me
mixed up in this affair. Later I was in that skiff you fellows rammed
and sunk on the Illinois. I know the whole dirty story, Kennedy, from
the very beginning. And now it is up to you whether or not I tell it
to Governor Clark."
"I reckon yer must be right," he admitted helplessly. "Only I quit
cold the minute I caught on ter whut wus up. I never know'd she wa'n't
no nigger till after we got yere. Sure's yer live that's true. Only
then I didn't know whut else ter do, so I got bilin' drunk."
"You are willing to work with me, then?"
"Yer kin bet I am; I ain't no gurl-stealer."
"Then listen, Kennedy. Jack Rale told me exactly what their plans
were, because he needed me to help him. When you jumped the
reservation, he had to find someone else, and picked me. The first
thing he did, however, was to get you drunk, so you wouldn't interfere.
That was part of their game, and Kirby came into the saloon a few
minutes ago to see how it worked. He stood there and laughed at you,
lying asleep. They mean to pull off the affair tonight. Here's the
story."
I told it to him, exactly in the form it had come to me, interrupted
only in the recital by an occasional profane ejaculation, or some
interjected question. The deputy appeared sober enough before I had
finished, and fully grasped the seriousness of the situation.
"Now that is the way it stacks up," I ended, "The girl is to be taken
to this fellow's shack and compelled to marry Kirby, whether she wants
to or not. They will have her where she cannot help herself--away from
anyone to whom she could appeal. Rale wouldn't explain what means were
to be used to make her consent, and I didn't dare press him for fear he
might suspect me. They either intend threatening her, or else to
actually resort to force--likely both. No doubt they can rely on this
renegade preacher in either case."
"Jack didn't name no name?"
"No--why?"
"Only thar uster be a bum hangin' round the river front in Saint Louee
who hed preacher's papers, en wore a long-tailed coat. Thar wan't no
low-down game he wudn't take a hand in fer a drink. His name wus
Gaskins; I hed him up fer mayhem onct. I'll bet he's the duck, for he
hung round Jack's place most o' the time. Whatcha want me ter do?"
"It has seemed to me, Tim," I said, thoughtfully, "that the best action
for us to take will be to let them place the girl in my hands, just as
they have planned to do. That will throw them entirely off their
guard. As things stand, I have no knowledge where she is concealed, or
where to hunt for her; but it is evident she is in no immediate danger.
They don't dare to force action here, in this camp. Once we succeed in
getting her safely away, and remain unknown ourselves, there ought to
be very little trouble in straightening out the whole matter. My plan
would be to either ride around the camp in the night, and then report
the whole affair at headquarters, or else to strike out direct for Fort
Armstrong across country. The Indians will all be cleaned out north of
here, and they know me at Armstrong. Do you know any place you can
pick up a horse?"
"Thar's a slew ov 'em round yere," he admitted. "These fellers are
most all hoss-soldiers. I reckon I cud cinch sum sort o' critter. Yer
want me along?"
"Perhaps not, Tim. Your disappearance might cause suspicion, and send
them after us. My plan is to get away as quietly as possible, and let
them believe everything is all right. I want a day or two in which to
work, before Rale or Kirby discover we have not gone to Bear Creek.
I'll meet them alone at the spring down the trail, but shall want you
somewhere near by. You see this is bound to mean a fight if I am
recognized--likely three against one; and those men wouldn't hesitate
at murder."
"I reckon not, an' it wudn't be their furst one nuther, Looks ter me
like yer wus takin' a big chance. I'll be thar, though; yer kin bet on
thet, an' ready fer a fight, er a foot race. This is how I size it
up--if thar ain't no row, I'm just ter keep still, an' lie low; an' if
a fracas starts I'm ter jump in fer all I'm worth. Is thet the
program?"
"Exactly--that's my idea."
"Wal' then, I'm a prayin' it starts; I want just one crack et thet
Kirby, the ornary cuss."
We talked the whole matter over in detail, having nothing better to do,
and endeavoring to arrange for every probability, yet did not remain
together for long. With my eyes to a chink between the logs I got a
view of the interior of the cabin. The two card players had
disappeared, and I imagined they were rolled up in blankets in one
corner of the room. Sal was alone, seated on a stool, her head hanging
forward, sound asleep. Evidently she had received no orders from Rale
to keep watch over the movements of either of us, and was not worried
on account of our absence. In all probability the saloon keeper
believed the deputy was drunk enough to remain in stupor all night, and
he considered my services as bought and paid for. He had traded with
derelicts of my apparent kind before.
I felt nervous, anxious, eager for action. The time dragged horribly.
If I could only be accomplishing something; or if I knew what was
occurring elsewhere. What if something unforeseen should occur to
change Rale's plan? Suppose, for instance, those fellows should decide
to force the marriage tonight, instead of waiting until after arrival
at Jenkins' Crossing? Suppose she resisted them, and was injured? A
suspicion came to me that I might have misunderstood all this. My God!
if I only knew where it was they had concealed the girl.
The two of us explored about the silent cabin, but discovered nothing.
There was no light visible in the rear room, nor any sound of movement
within. The two windows were closed, and the door locked. We found a
convenient stump in the woods, and sat down to wait, where we could see
all that occurred about the cabin. The distant camp fires had died
down, and only occasionally did any sound, generally far away, disturb
the silence. The night was fairly dark, the stars shining brightly
enough, but dense beneath the trees; yet we managed to locate the
nearer sentries by their voices when they reported posts. None were
stationed close by. Everything indicated that we were safely outside
the lines of camp. We conversed in whispers, until Tim, still
influenced by his excessive drinking, became sleepy, and slid off the
stump onto the ground, where he curled up on a pile of leaves. I let
him lie undisturbed, and continued my vigil alone, feeling no
inclination to sleep, every nerve throbbing almost painfully. Three or
four men straggled into the saloon while I sat there, coming from the
direction of the camp, and were doubtless waited upon by Sal. None
remained long within, and all I saw of them were indistinct figures
revealed for a moment, as the light streamed out through the opened
door. One seemed to be an officer, wrapped in a cavalry cloak--hunting
after men out of bounds, possibly--but, later than eleven o'clock,
there were no more callers. Soon after that hour the light within was
turned low.
All the while I remained there, motionless, intently watchful for every
movement about me, with Tim peacefully asleep on the leaves, my thought
was with Eloise Beaucaire, and my mind torn with doubt as to the wisdom
of my choice. Had I determined on the right course? Was there nothing
else I could do? Was it best for me to thus rely on my own efforts? or
should I have sought the assistance of others? Yet where could I turn?
How could I gain in time such assistance? I realized in those moments
that selfishness, love, personal desire, had very largely influenced me
in my decision; I was eager to rescue her alone, by my own efforts,
unaided. I had to confess this to be my secret purpose. I could dream
of nothing else, and was actually unwilling to share this privilege
with any other. I felt she belonged to me; determined she should
belong to me. From that instant when I became convinced that she was
of white blood--that no hideous barrier of race, no stain of dishonor,
held us apart--she had become my one ambition. I not only knew that I
loved her; but I believed almost as strongly that she loved me. Every
glance of her eyes, each word she had spoken, remained indelibly in my
memory. And beyond doubt she thought me dead. Kirby would have told
her that both men in the wrecked boat went down. It would be to his
advantage to impress this on her mind, so as thus to emphasize her
helplessness, and cause her to realize that no one knew of her
predicament. What an awakening it would be when she again recognized
me as actually alive, and beside, her. Surely in that moment I should
read the whole truth in those wonderful eyes, and reap my reward in her
first impulse of gratitude. It was not in nature to share such a
moment with another; I wanted it for myself, alone.
It was nearly twelve before even the slightest sound near at hand
indicated the approach of others. I was already in an agony of
suspense, imagining something might have gone wrong, when the dull
scuffling of horses' hoofs being led cautiously up the trail to my
right, broke the intense silence. I listened to assure myself, then
shook Tim into wakefulness, leaving him still blinking in the shadow of
the stump, while I advanced in the direction of the spring. Suddenly
the darker shape of the slowly moving animals loomed up through the
gloom, and came to a halt directly in front of me. I saw nothing of
Rale until he spoke.
"That yer, Moffett?"
"Yes; whar's yer party?"
I caught view of his dim outlines, as he stepped slightly forward,
reassured by my voice.
"They'll be yere; thar's a bit o' time ter spare yit. I aimed not ter
keep 'em waitin'. Here, this is yer hoss, an' yere's the leadin' strap
fer the others. Better tie it ter yer pommel, I reckon, so's ter leave
both yer hands free--yer might hav' need fer 'em. We'll tend ter
mountin' the gurls, an' then all ye'll hav' ter do will be ter lead
off. Thar won't be no talkin' done yere. Better walk the hosses till
yer git crost the crick, so the sojers won't hear yer. Got that?"
"I reckon I hav', an' sense 'nough ter know it without bein' told. Did
yer think I wanted ter be catched on this job?"
"All right, but thar's no harm a tellin' yer. Don't be so damn touchy.
Eneyboddy in the shack?"
"No; only the woman, asleep on a stool."
"Whar's Tim gone to?"
"I reckon he don't even know hisself; he's sure sum drunk."
Rale chuckled, patting the side of the horse next him. "Whole caboodle
workin' like a charm," he said, good humoredly. "Thought onct the
deputy might show up ugly, but a quart o' red-eye sure fixed
him--thar's our party a comin' now. Ye're ter stay right whar ye are."
They were advancing toward us up the bank which sloped down toward the
creek. It occurred to me they must be following some well-worn path,
from the silence of their approach--the only sound being a faint
rustling of dead leaves. Rale moved forward to meet them across the
little open space, and a moment later, from my hiding place among the
motionless horses, I became able to distinguish the slowly approaching
figures. There were four in the party, apparently from their garb two
men and two women. The second man might be the preacher, but if so,
why should he be there? Why should his presence at this time be
necessary? Unless the two main conspirators had special need for his
services, I could conceive no reason for his having any part in the
action that night. Had I been deceived in their plans? The horror of
the dawning conception that possibly I had waited too long, and that
the deed I sought to prevent had already been consummated, left me
trembling like an aspen. Even as this fear overwhelmed me with
consternation, I was compelled to notice how helplessly the first of
the two women walked--as though her limbs refused to support her body,
even though apparently upheld by the grip of the man beside her. Rale,
joining them, immediately grasped her other arm, and, between the two,
she was impelled forward. The saloon keeper seemed unable to restrain
his voice.
"Yer must'r give her one hell o' a dose," he growled, angrily. "Half
o' thet wud a bin 'nough. Why, damn it, she kin hardly walk."
"Well, what's the odds?" it was Kirby who replied sarcastically. "She
got more because she wouldn't drink. We had to make her take it, and
it wasn't no easy job. Gaskins will tell you that. Have you got your
man here?"
"O' course; he's waitin' thar with the hosses. But I'm damned if I
like this. She don't know nuthin', does she?"
"Maybe not now; but she'll come around all right, and she signed her
name. So there ain't no hitch. She seemed to get worse after that.
Come on, we can't stand talking here; let's get them off, Jack, there
isn't any time to waste. I suppose we'll have to strap her into the
saddle."
I held back, and permitted them to work, merely leading my own horse
slightly to one side, and keeping in his shadow. I doubt if Kirby even
glanced toward me, although if he did he saw only an ill-defined
figure, with no glimpse of my face. But the chances were that I was
nothing to him at that moment--a mere floating bum whom Rale had picked
up to do this job; and just then his whole attention was concentrated
upon the half-conscious girl, and his desire to get her safely out of
that neighborhood. My presence meant nothing of special interest.
Gaskins brutally jerked the shrinking mulatto forward, and forced her
to mount one of the horses. She made some faint protest, the nature of
which I failed to catch clearly, but the fellow only laughed in reply,
and ordered her to keep quiet. Eloise uttered no word, emitted no
sound, made no struggle, as the two other men lifted her bodily into
the saddle, where Kirby held her, swaying helplessly against him, while
Rale strapped her securely into place.
The entire proceedings were so brutally cruel that it required all my
strength of will to restrain myself from action. My fingers closed
upon the pistol in my pocket, and every impulse urged me to hurl myself
on the fellows, trusting everything to swift, bitter fight. I fairly
trembled in eagerness to grapple with Kirby, hand to hand, and crush
him helpless to the earth. I heard his voice, hateful and snarling, as
he cursed Rale for his slowness, and the hot blood boiled in my veins,
when he jerked the girl upright in the saddle.
"Thar," said the saloon keeper, at last, testing his strap. "I reckon
she can't fall off nohow, even if she don't sit up worth a damn. Go
ahead now, Moffett."
Both the men stepped aside, and I led my horse forward. The movement
brought me more into the open, and face to face with Kirby. By some
trick of fate, at that very instant a star-gleam, piercing through the
screen of leaves overhead, struck full into my eyes. With an oath he
thrust my hat back and stared straight at me.