"Yes."
The trainmaster was half-way to the door when he turned suddenly to say:
"You can fire me if you want to, Mr. Lidgerwood, but I've got to say my
say. You're going to let that yellow dog run loose until he bites you."
"No, I am not."
"By gravies! I'd have him safe under lock and key before the shindy
begins to-night, if it was my job."
Lidgerwood had turned to his desk and was opening it.
"He will be," he announced quietly. "I have sworn out a warrant for his
arrest, and Judson has it and is looking for his man."
McCloskey smote fist into palm and gritted out an oath of
congratulation. "That's where you hit the proper nail on the head!" he
exclaimed. "He's the king-pin of the whole machine, and if you can pull
him out, the machine will fall to pieces. What charge did you put in the
warrant? I only hope it's big enough to hold him."
"Train-wrecking and murder," said Lidgerwood, without looking around;
and a moment later McCloskey went out, treading softly as one who finds
himself a trespasser on forbidden ground.
The afternoon sun was poising for its plunge behind the western barrier
range and Lidgerwood had sent Grady, the stenographer, up to the cottage
on the second mesa to tell Mrs. Dawson that he would not be up for
dinner, when the door opened to admit Miss Brewster.
"'And the way into my parlor is up a winding stair,'" she quoted
blithely and quite as if the air were not thick with threatening
possibilities. "So this is where you live, is it? What a dreary, bleak,
blank place!"
"It was, a moment ago; but it isn't, now," he said, and his soberness
made the saying something more than a bit of commonplace gallantry. Then
he gave her his swing-chair as the only comfortable one in the bare
room, adding, "I hope you have come to tell me that your mother has
changed her mind."
"Indeed I haven't! What do you take us for, Howard?"
"For an exceedingly rash party of pleasure-hunters--if you have decided
to stay here through what is likely to happen before to-morrow morning.
Besides, you are making it desperately hard for me."
She laughed lightly. "If you can't be afraid for yourself, you'll be
afraid for other people, won't you? It seems to be one of your
necessities."
He let the taunt go unanswered.
"I can't believe that you know what you are facing, any of you, Eleanor.
I'll tell you what I told your mother: there will be battle, murder, and
sudden death let loose here in Angels before to-morrow morning. And it is
so utterly unnecessary for any of you to be involved."
She rose and stood before him, putting a comradely hand on his shoulder,
and looking him fairly in the eyes.
"There was a ring of sincerity in that, Howard. Do you really mean that
there is likely to be violence?"
"I do; it is almost certain to come. The trouble has been brewing for a
long time--ever since I came here, in fact. And there is nothing we can
do to prevent it. All we can do is to meet it when it does come, and
fight it out."
"'We,' you say; who else besides yourself, Howard?" she asked.
"A little handful of loyal ones."
"Then you will be outnumbered?"
"Six to one here in town if the shopmen go out. They have already
threatened to burn the company's buildings if I don't comply with their
demands, and I know the temper of the outfit well enough to give it full
credit for any violence it promises. Won't you go and persuade the
others to consent to run for it, Eleanor? It is simply the height of
folly for you to hold the _Nadia_ here. If I could have had ten words
with your father this morning before he went out to the mine, you would
all have been in Copah, long ago. Even now, if I could get word to him,
I'm sure he would order the car out at once."
She nodded.
"Perhaps he would; quite likely he would--and he would stay here
himself." Then, suddenly: "You may send the _Nadia_ back to Copah on one
condition--that you go with it."
At first he thought it was a deliberate insult; the cruelest indignity
she had ever put upon him. Knowing his weakness, she was good-natured
enough, or solicitous enough, to try to get him out of harm's way. Then
the steadfast look in her eyes made him uncertain.
"If I thought you could say that, realizing what it means--" he began,
and then he looked away.
"Well?" she prompted, and the hand slipped from his shoulder.
His eyes were coming back to hers. "If I thought you meant that," he
repeated; "if I believed that you could despise me so utterly as to
think for a moment that I would deliberately turn my back upon my
responsibilities here--go away and hunt safety for myself, leaving the
men who have stood by me to whatever----"
"You are making it a matter of duty," she interrupted quite gravely. "I
suppose that is right and proper. But isn't your first duty to yourself
and to those who--" She paused, and then went on in the same steady
tone: "I have been hearing some things to-day--some of the things you
said I would hear. You are well hated in the Red Desert, Howard--hated
so fiercely that this quarrel with your men will be almost a personal
one."
"I know," he said.
"They will kill you, if you stay here and let them do it."
"Quite possibly."
"Howard! Do you tell me you can stay here and face all this without
flinching?"
"Oh, no; I didn't say that."
"But you are facing it!"
He smiled.
"As I told you yesterday--that is one of the things for which I draw my
salary. Don't mistake me; there is nothing heroic about it--the heroics
are due to come to-night. That is another thing, Eleanor--another reason
why I want you to go away. When the real pinch comes, I shall probably
disgrace myself and everybody remotely connected with me. I'd a good bit
rather be torn into little pieces, privately, than have you here to be
made ashamed--again."
She turned away.
"Tell me, in so many words, what you think will be done to-night--what
are you expecting?"
"I told you a few moments ago, in the words of the Prayer Book: battle,
and murder, and sudden death. A strike has been planned, and it will
fail. Five minutes after the first strike-abandoned train arrives, the
town will go mad."
She had come close to him again.
"Mother won't go and leave father; that is settled. You must do the best
you can, with us for a handicap. What will you do with us, Howard?"
"I have been thinking about that. The farther you can get away from the
shops and the yard, which will be the storm-centre, the safer you will
be. I can have the _Nadia_ set out on the Copperette switch, which is a
good half-mile below the town, with Van Lew and Jefferis to stand
guard----"
"They will both be here, with you," she interrupted.
"Then the alternative is to place the car as near as possible to this
building, which will be defended. If there is a riot, you can all come
up here and be out of the way of chance pistol-shots, at least."
"Ugh!" she shivered. "Is this really civilized America?"
"It's America--without much of the civilization. Now, will you go and
tell the others what to expect, and send Van Lew to me? I want to tell
him just what to do and how to do it, while there is time and an
undisturbed chance."