IN A WEB OF LIES.
Ellen West rode forth from Scarlet Gulch in doubt, with Panther Pete,
believing him to be Buffalo Bill, a man she felt she ought to honor,
yet troubled by unpleasant forebodings.
He had told her that her father, who was working a claim in the Blue
Hills, some distance away, wished her to come there, and had sent him
to escort her.
When they were beyond the town, he said:
“Miss West, I didn’t want to tell you, but your father is not well.”
“Not well?” she said, alarmed. “You mean he is very sick, dying
perhaps?”
“The fact is,” he exclaimed, “he fell and hurt himself in that tunnel
he is digging; some rock fell on him, and----”
“Oh, he is dying! I know it. Why didn’t you tell me at once?”
“I didn’t want to scare you,” he answered.
“He is dying?”
“No, not so bad as that; but he is hurt, and I thought you ought to
be out there. Girls are scared of the dark, you know, and so--well,
I done the best I could. I didn’t want to make you feel bad, either;
but I reckon the time for you to know it has come.”
She asked him again and again why he had not told her at first of
the injury to her father, and urged him to give details; until, in
replying to her, he had constructed such a piece of fiction that he
felt rather proud of it and his abilities in that line.
Two or three miles from the town he was joined by half a dozen
rough-looking riders, who peered at the girl from under their
slouched hats in a way to make her uneasy. These wild figures fell in
behind her and the supposed Buffalo Bill, as if they were the escort.
“Friends of mine,” said Panther Pete. “Some of the members of my band
of scouts.”
“Oh, your scouts!” she said, much relieved.
“I’m the chief of the scouts, you know.”
“Yes, I have heard that. And these are some of them?”
She glanced at the sky. Being a prairie girl, she knew the stars by
sight, and was able to tell which was north as well as any one. She
saw the Big Dipper, with its two outer stars pointing to the north
star. She had observed that a change had been made in their course,
and she saw that a further change of course occurred now, a change
that surprised her, for she knew it was not the right direction to
take her to her father’s claim. She spoke of it to the man who rode
beside her.
“Oh, yes, right ye are! But, you see, it’s this way: There’s danger
now in going the straight course, and so we make this circle. We’ll
be steering in the other direction soon.”
“What is the danger?” she asked.
“Outlaws,” he said gravely.
“Outlaws?”
“You’ve heard of the stage holdups? Well, it’s the fellows who have
been doing that work. These men here saw them over in that direction
this afternoon, and so we’re trying to get round them. I didn’t want
to worry you by mentioning it.”
This satisfied her for a time, but when, in the course of two or
three hours of brisk riding, they passed through a deep cañon pass
and came to a hollow in the hills, at a point which she was sure was
a long way from her father’s mining claim, and there saw some log
huts of poor construction, and the party was challenged by a guard,
her fears sprang up.
“What does this mean?” she demanded.
“We’re going to get a stronger force here,” said Panther Pete, still
thinking that lying would serve him best. “We need a large escort.”
Again she was silent, and they passed into the valley.
Some dogs barked loudly, but were driven back to their kennels; and
then she was before one of the huts, and was told to dismount.
Panther Pete swung down and helped her from the saddle.
“We’ll rest a little while,” he explained. “Then we’ll go on again.”
“But we ought to hurry right on, for father may be dying,” she
protested.
“We’ll need a little rest,” he urged, and he opened the door of the
hut and showed her within.
She stood in the darkness, inside, hesitating, for she began to feel
that something was wrong.
Panther Pete followed her into the hut, and then lighted a lamp,
which stood on a low table at the opposite side of the room. By its
lights she saw that the hut contained but one room.
“Just stay here and rest a minute,” he urged, “and I’ll be right
back. I’ll have something brought for you to eat, and then in a
little while we’ll go on again.”
However, when he retreated and closed the door, she distinctly heard
the key turned in the lock.
“Mr. Cody,” she called after him, still hearing his retreating
footsteps. “Mr. Cody!”
She shook the door, and then pounded on it with her closed fist,
and called again; but he did not answer, and he did not turn back.
Bewildered now, and badly frightened, she shook the door again and
again, and raised her voice in loud calls.
One of the dogs set up a barking outcry, hearing her, but no human
being responded.
There was no window in the hut, but near the roof were some small
holes that let in light and air. She could not climb up to those
holes, and it would not have helped her if she could have done so. In
despair, she glanced round the room.
It contained a rude bed, some chairs, and a table and lamp, and
nothing else. The floor was of earth, beaten hard.
She sat down to await the return of the man who had locked her in. By
and by she heard him coming, and she heard the key turn in the lock
when he opened the door.
She was on her feet, facing him, as he entered.
“I must ask you to explain this--this----” She panted and hesitated
for words.
He closed the door quickly, and stopped in front of it.
“What is it?” he said.
“Why, you locked me in when you went away! Why did you do that?”
“For your protection,” he said, still thinking it best to lie to her.
“For my protection?”
“Yes; some of these men here I don’t trust. They’re all right as
scouts, and all that, but I don’t trust them. We’ve got to stay here
a little while, until we can get more men; for the outlaws, it’s
reported, are in strong force between here and the Blue Hills.”
His manner had changed, and the truth suddenly came to her, with its
startling revelation.
“You are not Buffalo Bill!” she cried, gasping.
“Who’s been telling you I’m not?” he said, startled.
“Oh, I know it! I feel it! You can’t be Buffalo Bill. I did hear
rumors, and thought them----”
“What rumors?” he demanded.
“That Buffalo Bill was not in this part of the country, and that you
were a fake Buffalo Bill. But I didn’t believe them, for you----”
“For I was making love to you and all that?” He laughed harshly.
“No; because you were father’s friend.”
“Well, I’ve been good to him, for your sake,” he said brazenly.
She became terrified, for this seemed almost a confession that he was
not Buffalo Bill.
“I’ve been good to him,” he repeated, “and he knows it, and he don’t
doubt that I’m Buffalo Bill. I let him have a thousand dollars to
help him out with that claim, and he doesn’t forget it.”
She regarded him with terror, for there was a change in his manner--a
reckless change apparently.
“You will take me on to father’s claim as soon as possible?” she said.
He dropped to a rough stool close by the door, in such a manner that
the door was still guarded by his body.
“Well, what if I’m not Buffalo Bill, as you say?”
“I--I am afraid you’re not.”
“And if I ain’t?” he demanded.
“You have told me you were!” she gasped.
“And you’ve said I wasn’t. Well, I ain’t.”
He paused to note the effect of his words. She withdrew toward the
other side of the room, alarm and fright showing in her face and
manner.
“I’m not Buffalo Bill, though I reckon as that ain’t the name that
his mother gave him I’ve as much right to it as he has. In other
words, I’m not Bill Cody. And I reckon, too, that you’ve heard of
me; most people round here have. Do you want to know who I am? I’m
Panther Pete.”
She screamed, and crowded closer against the wall when she heard that
dreaded name. Panther Pete! It was a name of infamy, a name that
reeked with blood, a name to blanch the cheek of woman or man; for
the miscreant who bore it was notorious as a murderer and outlaw,
with innumerable black and bloody crimes laid at his door.
“You’ve heard of me, I see,” he remarked, with a sardonic smile.
She did not answer, but stared at him, large-eyed and fearful.
“And now that you know who I am, what do ye say to it? Ain’t I as
good-looking as I was before--as I was when you thought me Buffalo
Bill? Buffalo Bill! Faugh! He’s a milksop, that tries to make people
believe that kindness pays when you’re dealing with Indians and
cattle like that; and then has to go out and shoot up them same
Indians for their deviltry, and thus eat his own words. It ain’t been
any special honor to me to play Buffalo Bill; but I had a reason for
doing it, which was to get him in a sling. I think he’s in that sling
about now, and he won’t get out of it easy.”
It was a long speech, but he seemed to enjoy his words, and the
terror they brought to the countenance of the girl.
“Please--please take me to my father!” she begged.
He laughed again harshly.
“You believed that part of it, too, did ye?”
“Please take me to my father!”
“Well, that’s a thing I ain’t thinking of doing. I couldn’t afford
to deprive myself of your charming presence, ye know. I’ve taken a
fancy to you. My dear, I’m dead in love with you.”
She wanted to scream again.
“You know I told you that once, at your home over there in Scarlet
Gulch,” he continued calmly. “You thought I was Buffalo Bill, and you
smiled when I said it. I’m the same man, and when I say it now you
show a weak disposition and a tendency to holler, which is unkind of
you.”
She turned on him in wild desperation. “You must let me out of this
house!” she cried. “I won’t stay here. You promised to take me to my
father, and----”
“Promises made to a handsome woman are like the proverbial pie crust,
made to be broken. I wanted to bring you here.”
“And lied to me?”
“Yes, I lied to you like a sinner. I might as well admit it. I ought
to have told you the truth at first; only I thought you’d yell, and
there would be a sweet muss of it in the street, maybe with a lot of
fellows chasin’ me and trying to shoot me full of holes. So I lied to
you.”
“And my father?”
“I ain’t seen your father for a good while. That was a lie, too. I
think he’s well and healthy. I don’t expect to see him again soon.”
“And you intend----”
“Just to keep you here a while, my dear, out of affection for you,
pure and simple; and then, as soon as it’s safe, we’ll hike out for
a preacher I know about, who’ll marry us. He ain’t in good standing
in the church just now, but he can tie the matrimonial knot as tight
for us as the next one, and that’s what we want. You see, he got into
trouble at the last church he presided over, and, when some of the
deacons and leading members wanted to put him in jail, he just jumped
the country and came to me; and I’ve treated him better than ever
they did, and he’s makin’ more money.”
“He is a member of your band of road agents?” she cried.
“I don’t call ’em that; they’re gentlemen of the road, doing good
to the world by taking money from rich folks who don’t need it
and handing it over to poor folks that do, with just a little for
themselves by way of toll for the trouble. And yet people say hard
things against us, and invite us to necktie parties and all that.
It’s unjust and unreasonable.”
Ellen West had never before seen the devil displayed in human form
as she now saw it in this smiling, handsome fellow, who said these
things as coolly as if they were but jest, and sat there, his white
teeth showing as he laughed. He looked to be a fiend incarnate.
Realizing just what he was, and all the horror of her own position,
she wanted to shriek. Then she began to beg him again to let her go;
and he answered in the same way, laughing at her words, and making
light of her fears.
“Miss West,” he said, “you’ll find us just the finest lot you ever
met. So don’t be afraid and go off into a fit. I’m going to make
you my wife. I’ve sworn to have the life of Buffalo Bill. I planned
a little trick that I think will get him as soon as he puts his nose
into Scarlet Gulch. If it doesn’t, I’ve got some other plans that
will. I intend to do him up, for some things I owe him.
“That will, of course, necessitate my sudden retirement from this
section. I shall emigrate, get out of the country, and go in search
of pastures new. And I know where those pastures are--green, and
flowing with gold dollars and milk and honey.
“I want somebody to go with me for company, and I’ve hit on you as
the female angel that will soothe and console me in that time of
retreat and trial. I’ve got a snug abode just built for two up in the
mountains, and we’ll bill and coo there like a pair of turtle doves,
and forget those awful times down here.”
He sat before her, his elbows on his knees, his hands supporting his
chin, and looked at her; and she stared at him, as the charmed bird
is said to stare helplessly at the serpent.
She saw how helpless she was in the power of this man. About her were
the plains and the rolling hills, and darkness and distance. She did
not even know where this hut and this valley were situated; nor how
far she had come after leaving Scarlet Gulch. But she knew that in
this valley were the road agents who acknowledged the authority of
this man--Panther Pete. Yes, she was helpless, and she realized it.
“Oh, let me go!” she begged in terror, throwing herself on her knees
before him. “Please--please let me go! I shall pray for you every
day of my life, if you will let me go. I once considered you an
honorable man, and----”
He put out his hand and touched her head, causing her to shiver.
“My dear girl, have a little sense!” he said. “Is it such a terrible
thing to think of marrying me? I’ll bet that, when you thought
I was Buffalo Bill, you were of the opinion that I was rather a
stunning fellow in general appearance! Now, didn’t you? And I’m as
good-looking now as then. Come, be sensible! I’m not going to scalp
you, or feed you to my dogs out there. In fact, I’m not going to hurt
you at all. I’m simply going to hold you until you’re willing to go
before our parson and marry me. Think what that will mean! You will
be the wife of Panther Pete, and queen of the road agents! Doesn’t
the prospect allure you? If it doesn’t, it ought to. To be queen of
our road agents isn’t so small a matter as you may think it. They’re
a jolly lot, and fighters every one, from the ground up. There are
worse jobs than being queen to a set of fellows like that. Why, if
you should be kind to ’em, and say a good word now and then to ’em,
there ain’t a man among ’em wouldn’t die for you, and feel happy if
you paid him with a smile.
“I’m going to let you think about this. Think it over for a time, and
carefully. We’re not such a bad lot. We do our robbing and stealing
boldly, and risk our lives. Other men steal and rob under cover--by
giving short weight, cheating their customers, stealing from the
bank depositors and covering it up with lying figures, and in a
thousand other ways; and the world thinks such fellows are great
stuff. They’re thieves as much as we are here; but they’re cowardly
thieves, which makes them worse than we are. Many a man that lives in
a big house in the town and drives his wife out Sundays in a shining
carriage is a whole lot more of a bad man than I am, and the world
thinks he’s fine as silk. It all depends on how you do the stealing.
Make the stealing respectable, and you’re respectable. Steal boldly,
and the penitentiary waits for you.”
He rose from his seat by the door.
“My dear,” he said, as his hand fell on the knob and he seemed about
to go, “just think that over. I’ll be good to you. I’m actually half
in love with you, and I’ll be wholly so if you’ll give me a chance.
You’re as handsome as a picture, and I like a pretty woman. I’ll play
fair by you, I’ll treat you well, and you may have anything in the
way of fine clothes or other finery that you want.”
His brow darkened, as a new thought came to him.
“And understand that it’s just as well to do as I say, and do it
gracefully; for you can’t get away. Accept my offer, and you’ll have
no trouble. But make trouble for us, and--well, you can see that
we’ll have to make trouble for you.”
He drew the door open and stepped through to the outside, with his
hand on the knob and on the key.
She saw that she could not escape by a wild rush, and he seemed to
read her thought.
“No, there ain’t no use tryin’ it, for you couldn’t get away, even
if you got out of this house. The entrance to this valley is guarded,
and there are the dogs. They’re kind, unless we set them on the trail
of somebody, and then that somebody had better look out, if the dogs
overtake him. So don’t try. I’d hate to have the dogs chew you up.
Not but that you’d make dainty eating for them; but I shouldn’t like
it, and for you it would be mightily unpleasant.”
He started to lock the door, drawing it half shut.
“Think it over,” he urged. “I’m serious, and in this game of robbery
I’m not a hypocrite, but play the game fair, and risk my life like
a man in doing it. Think it over. To be queen of Panther Pete’s
road, agents won’t be so bad as you may think. Take time to study
the situation. I’ll make you a good husband, if you’ll give me the
chance. And, if you don’t willingly, I’ll be your husband anyway, and
you’ll have your trouble for your pains.”
He closed the door and locked it, and she heard his footsteps as he
departed.
Then she threw herself blindly on the floor, in a very paroxysm of
terror and anguish, sobbing. “I must--must get away from here!”
she cried. “I must--to-night--to-night! Oh, I must get out of this
house!”