III.

It was not long before it became evident that the "talens" of Mr. Lacy

Bassett, as indicated by Captain Jim, were to grasp at a seat in the

state legislature. An editorial in the "Simpson's Bar Clarion" boldly

advocated his pretensions. At first it was believed that the article

emanated from the gifted pen of Lacy himself, but the style was so

unmistakably that of Colonel Starbottle, an eminent political

"war-horse" of the district, that a graver truth was at once suggested,

namely, that the "Guardian" had simply been transferred to Simpson's

Bar, and merged into the "Clarion" solely on this condition. At least

it was recognized that it was the hand of Captain Jim which guided the

editorial fingers of the colonel, and Captain Jim's money that

distended the pockets of that gallant political leader.

Howbeit Lacy Bassett was never elected; in fact he was only for one

brief moment a candidate. It was related that upon his first ascending

the platform at Simpson's Bar a voice in the audience said lazily,

"Come down!" That voice was Yuba Bill's. A slight confusion ensued,

in which Yuba Bill whispered a few words in the colonel's ear. After a

moment's hesitation the "war-horse" came forward, and in his loftiest

manner regretted that the candidate had withdrawn. The next issue of

the "Clarion" proclaimed with no uncertain sound that a base conspiracy

gotten up by the former proprietor of the "Guardian" to undermine the

prestige of the Great Express Company had been ruthlessly exposed, and

the candidate on learning it HIMSELF for the first time, withdrew his

name from the canvass, as became a high-toned gentleman. Public

opinion, ignoring Lacy Bassett completely, unhesitatingly denounced

Captain Jim.

During this period I had paid but little heed to Lacy Bassett's social

movements, or the successes which would naturally attend such a

character with the susceptible sex. I had heard that he was engaged to

Polly Baxter, but that they had quarrelled in consequence of his

flirtations with others, especially a Mrs. Sweeny, a profusely

ornamented but reputationless widow. Captain Jim had often alluded

with a certain respectful pride and delicacy to Polly's ardent

appreciation of his friend, and had more than half hinted with the same

reverential mystery to their matrimonial union later, and his intention

of "doing the square thing" for the young couple. But it was presently

noticed that these allusions became less frequent during Lacy's amorous

aberrations, and an occasional depression and unusual reticence marked

Captain Jim's manner when the subject was discussed in his presence.

He seemed to endeavor to make up for his friend's defection by a kind

of personal homage to Polly, and not unfrequently accompanied her to

church or to singing-class. I have a vivid recollection of meeting him

one afternoon crossing the fields with her, and looking into her face

with that same wistful, absorbed, and uneasy canine expression that I

had hitherto supposed he had reserved for Lacy alone. I do not know

whether Polly was averse to the speechless devotion of these yearning

brown eyes; her manner was animated and the pretty cheek that was

nearest me mantled as I passed; but I was struck for the first time

with the idea that Captain Jim loved her! I was surprised to have that

fancy corroborated in the remark of another wayfarer whom I met, to the

effect, "That now that Bassett was out o' the running it looked ez if

Captain Jim was makin' up for time!" Was it possible that Captain Jim

had always loved her? I did not at first know whether to be pained or

pleased for his sake. But I concluded that whether the unworthy

Bassett had at last found a RIVAL in Captain Jim or in the girl

herself, it was a displacement that was for Captain Jim's welfare. But

as I was about leaving Gilead for a month's transfer to the San

Francisco office, I had no opportunity to learn more from the

confidences of Captain Jim.

I was ascending the principal staircase of my San Francisco hotel one

rainy afternoon, when I was pointedly recalled to Gilead by the passing

glitter of Mrs. Sweeny's jewelry and the sudden vanishing behind her of

a gentleman who seemed to be accompanying her. A few moments after I

had entered my room I heard a tap at my door, and opened it upon Lacy

Bassett. I thought he looked a little confused and agitated.

Nevertheless, with an assumption of cordiality and ease he said, "It

appears we're neighbors. That's my room next to yours." He pointed to

the next room, which I then remembered was a sitting-room en suite with

my own, and communicating with it by a second door, which was always

locked. It had not been occupied since my tenancy. As I suppose my

face did not show any extravagant delight at the news of his

contiguity, he added, hastily, "There's a transom over the door, and I

thought I'd tell you you kin hear everything from the one room to the

other."

I thanked him, and told him dryly that, as I had no secrets to divulge

and none that I cared to hear, it made no difference to me. As this

seemed to increase his confusion and he still hesitated before the

door, I asked him if Captain Jim was with him.

"No," he said quickly. "I haven't seen him for a month, and don't want

to. Look here, I want to talk to you a bit about him." He walked into

the room, and closed the door behind him. "I want to tell you that me

and Captain Jim is played! All this runnin' o' me and interferin' with

me is played! I'm tired of it. You kin tell him so from me."

"Then you have quarrelled?"

"Yes. As much as any man can quarrel with a darned fool who can't take

a hint."

"One moment. Have you quarrelled about Polly Baxter?"

"Yes," he answered querulously. "Of course I have. What does he mean

by interfering?

"Now listen to me, Mr. Bassett," I interrupted. "I have no desire to

concern myself in your association with Captain Jim, but since you

persist in dragging me into it, you must allow me to speak plainly.

From all that I can ascertain you have no serious intentions of

marrying Polly Baxter. You have come here from Gilead to follow Mrs.

Sweeny, whom I saw you with a moment ago. Now, why do you not frankly

give up Miss Baxter to Captain Jim, who will make her a good husband,

and go your own way with Mrs. Sweeny? If you really wish to break off

your connection with Captain Jim, that's the only way to do it."

His face, which had exhibited the weakest and most pitiable

consciousness at the mention of Mrs. Sweeny, changed to an expression

of absolute stupefaction as I concluded.

"Wot stuff are you tryin' to fool me with?" he said at last roughly.

"I mean," I replied sharply, "that this double game of yours is

disgraceful. Your association with Mrs. Sweeny demands the withdrawal

of any claim you have upon Miss Baxter at once. If you have no respect

for Captain Jim's friendship, you must at least show common decency to

her."

He burst into a half-relieved, half-hysteric laugh. "Are you crazy?"

gasped he. "Why, Captain Jim's just huntin' ME down to make ME marry

Polly. That's just what the row's about. That's just what he's

interferin' for--just to carry out his darned fool ideas o' gettin' a

wife for me; just his vanity to say HE'S made the match. It's ME that

he wants to marry to that Baxter girl--not himself. He's too cursed

selfish for that."

I suppose I was not different from ordinary humanity, for in my

unexpected discomfiture I despised Captain Jim quite as much as I did

the man before me. Reiterating my remark that I had no desire to mix

myself further in their quarrels, I got rid of him with as little

ceremony as possible. But a few minutes later, when the farcical side

of the situation struck me, my irritation was somewhat mollified,

without however increasing my respect for either of the actors. The

whole affair had assumed a triviality that was simply amusing, nothing

more, and I even looked forward to a meeting with Captain Jim and HIS

exposition of the matter--which I knew would follow--with pleasurable

anticipation. But I was mistaken.

One afternoon, when I was watching the slanting volleys of rain driven

by a strong southwester against the windows of the hotel reading-room,

I was struck by the erratic movements of a dripping figure outside that

seemed to be hesitating over the entrance to the hotel. At times

furtively penetrating the porch as far as the vestibule, and again

shyly recoiling from it, its manner was so strongly suggestive of some

timid animal that I found myself suddenly reminded of Captain Jim and

the memorable evening of his exodus from Eureka Gulch. As the figure

chanced to glance up to the window where I stood I saw to my

astonishment that it WAS Captain Jim himself, but so changed and

haggard that I scarcely knew him. I instantly ran out into the hall

and vestibule, but when I reached the porch he had disappeared. Either

he had seen me and wished to avoid me, or he had encountered the object

of his quest, which I at once concluded must be Lacy Bassett. I was so

much impressed and worried by his appearance and manner, that, in this

belief, I overcame my aversion to meeting Bassett, and even sought him

through the public rooms and lobbies in the hope of finding Captain Jim

with him. But in vain; possibly he had succeeded in escaping his

relentless friend.

As the wind and rain increased at nightfall and grew into a tempestuous

night, with deserted streets and swollen waterways, I did not go out

again, but retired early, inexplicably haunted by the changed and

brooding face of Captain Jim. Even in my dreams he pursued me in his

favorite likeness of a wistful, anxious, and uneasy hound, who, on my

turning to caress him familiarly, snapped at me viciously, and appeared

to have suddenly developed a snarling rabid fury. I seemed to be

awakened at last by the sound of his voice. For an instant I believed

the delusion a part of my dream. But I was mistaken; I was lying broad

awake, and the voice clearly had come from the next room, and was

distinctly audible over the transom.

"I've had enough of it," he said, "and I'm givin' ye now--this

night--yer last chance. Quit this hotel and that woman, and go back to

Gilead and marry Polly. Don't do it and I'll kill ye, ez sure ez you

sit there gapin' in that chair. If I can't get ye to fight me like a

man,--and I'll spit in yer face or put some insult onto you afore that

woman, afore everybody, ez would make a bigger skunk nor you

turn,--I'll hunt ye down and kill ye in your tracks."

There was a querulous murmur of interruption in Lacy's voice, but

whether of defiance or appeal I could not distinguish. Captain Jim's

voice again rose, dogged and distinct.

"Ef YOU kill me it's all the same, and I don't say that I won't thank

ye. This yer world is too crowded for yer and me, Lacy Bassett. I've

believed in ye, trusted in ye, lied for ye, and fought for ye. From

the time I took ye up--a feller-passenger to 'Fresco--believin' there

wor the makin's of a man in ye, to now, you fooled me,--fooled me afore

the Eureka boys; fooled me afore Gilead; fooled me afore HER; fooled me

afore God! It's got to end here. Ye've got to take the curse of that

foolishness off o' me! You've got to do one single thing that's like

the man I took ye for, or you've got to die. Times waz when I'd have

wished it for your account--that's gone, Lacy Bassett! You've got to

do it for ME. You've got to do it so I don't see 'd--d fool' writ in

the eyes of every man ez looks at me."

He had apparently risen and walked towards the door. His voice sounded

from another part of the room.

"I'll give ye till to-morrow mornin' to do suthin' to lift this curse

off o' me. Ef you refoose, then, by the living God, I'll slap yer face

in the dinin'-room, or in the office afore them all! You hear me!"

There was a pause, and then a quick sharp explosion that seemed to fill

and expand both rooms until the windows were almost lifted from their

casements, a hysterical inarticulate cry from Lacy, the violent opening

of a door, hurried voices, and the tramping of many feet in the

passage. I sprang out of bed, partly dressed myself, and ran into the

hall. But by that time I found a crowd of guests and servants around

the next door, some grasping Bassett, who was white and trembling, and

others kneeling by Captain Jim, who was half lying in the doorway

against the wall.

"He heard it all," Bassett gasped hysterically, pointing to me. "HE

knows that this man wanted to kill me."

Before I could reply, Captain Jim partly raised himself with a

convulsive effort. Wiping away the blood that, oozing from his lips,

already showed the desperate character of his internal wound, he said

in a husky and hurried voice: "It's all right, boys! It's my fault.

It was ME who done it. I went for him in a mean underhanded way jest

now, when he hadn't a weppin nor any show to defend himself. We

gripped. He got a holt o' my derringer--you see that's MY pistol

there, I swear it--and turned it agin me in self-defense, and sarved me

right. I swear to God, gentlemen, it's so!" Catching sight of my

face, he looked at me, I fancied half imploringly and half

triumphantly, and added, "I might hev knowed it! I allers allowed Lacy

Bassett was game!--game, gentlemen--and he was. If it's my last word,

I say it--he was game!"

And with this devoted falsehood upon his lips and something of the old

canine instinct in his failing heart, as his head sank back he seemed

to turn it towards Bassett, as if to stretch himself out at his feet.

Then the light failed from his yearning upward glance, and the curse of

foolishness was lifted from him forever.

So conclusive were the facts, that the coroner's jury did not deem it

necessary to detain Mr. Bassett for a single moment after the inquest.

But he returned to Gilead, married Polly Baxter, and probably on the

strength of having "killed his man," was unopposed on the platform next

year, and triumphantly elected to the legislature!