BENEATH THE DARKNESS
Running blindly through the darkness toward the sound of struggle came
Hicks and Winston. They caught no more than faint glimpses of
scattering, fleeing figures, but promptly opened fire, scarcely
comprehending as yet what it all meant. Hicks, dashing recklessly
forward, tripped over a recumbent figure in the darkness, and the two
paused irresolutely, perceiving no more of the enemy. Then it was that
Stutter Brown struggled slowly up upon his knees, still closely
clasping the slender figure of the stricken girl within his arms. She
neither moved nor moaned, but beneath the revealing starlight her eyes
were widely opened, gazing up into his face, appearing marvellously
brilliant against the unusual pallor of her cheeks. Her breath came
short and sharp as if in pain, yet the lips smiled up at him.
"Oh, God!" he sobbed, "it was you!"
"Si, señor," the words faltering forth, almost as if in mockery of his
own hesitating speech. "Once I said maybe I show you. I not know how
den--now I know."
"Sh-show me, little girl--in God's n-name, show me wh-what?"
"Eef eet vas true dat I lofe you, señor. Now you tink eet vas so; now
you all'ays know vat vas in de heart of Mercedes. Dis bettah vay as
talk, señor--nevah you doubt no more."
He could only continue to look at her, the intense agony within his
eyes beyond all expression of speech, his words caught helpless in the
swelling throat. She lifted one hand in weak caress, gently touching
his cheek with her white fingers.
"Oh, please don't, señor. Eet hurt me mooch to see you feel dat bad.
Sure eet does. Eet vas not de balls vat hurt--no, no! I know dey not
reach to you eef dey hit me de first. Eet joys me to do dat--sure eet
does."
"Little g-girl, little g-girl," he faltered, helplessly, his great
hands trembling as he touched her. "It w-was you I t-tried ter save.
I-I ran th-th-this way so th-they wouldn't sh-shoot toward yer."
She smiled happily up at him, softly stroking his hair, even while the
lines of her face twitched from pain.
"Sure I know, señor. You von brav', good man--maybe now you all'ays
tink I brav', good also. Dat be 'nough for Mercedes. Oh, dis be de
bettar vay--de great God knows; sure He knows. Now, señor, I be yours
all'ays, forever. I so happy to be lofed by good man. I just look in
your face, señor, and tink, He lofe me, he ask me marry him. Maybe I
not nevah do dat, for fear he tire, for fear he hear tings not nice
about Mercedes. Dat make me sorrow, make me shame before him. Si, I
know how it vould be. I know de Americanos; dey ver' proud of dare
vives, dey fight for de honor. So eet make me mooch 'fraid, I no vort'
eet--no, no! I know not den de bettar vay. But de good Mother of God
she show me, she tell me vat do--I run quick; I die for de man I lofe,
an' den he all'ays know dat I lofe him; he know den bettar as eef I
marry him. Si, si, eet vas all joy for Mercedes, now, my señor. Eet
not hurt, eet make me glad to know."
Brown bent ever lower as he listened, his great body shaking in the
effort to repress his sobs, his lips pressing against her white cheek.
"I kiss you now, señor," she whispered, faintly. "Just de once, like I
vas your vife."
Their lips met, the very soul of each seemingly in the soft, clinging
contact. Suddenly the poor girl sank backward, her head falling
heavily upon his supporting arm, a peculiar shudder twitching her
slender form.
"Mercedes!" he cried in alarm.
"Si, señor," the black eyes still wide open, but her words scarcely
audible. "Eet is so hard to see you; maybe de stars hide behin' de
cloud, but, but I lofe--"
"Yes, y-yes, I kn-know."
She lifted her arms, then dropped them heavily upon his bowed shoulders.
"Dar is such a brightness come, señor. Eet light everyting like eet
vas de day. Maybe I be good too, now dat a good man lofe me; maybe de
God forgif all de bad because I lofe. You tink so? Oh, eet--eet joys
me so--señor! señor!"
Motionless, almost breathless, but for the sobs shaking his great
figure, he held her tightly, bending low, her white cheek against his
own, her head pillowed upon his arm. About them was the silence, the
solemn night shadows, amid which waited Hicks and Winston earnestly
watching. Finally, the latter spoke gently, striving to arouse the
man; but Stutter Brown never lifted his head, never removed his eyes
from the death-white face upheld by his arm. As though stricken to
stone he remained motionless, seemingly lifeless, his face as pallid as
the dead he guarded. Hicks bent over and placed one hand upon his
shoulder.
"Stutter, ol' pard," he said, pleadingly. "I know it's mighty hard,
but don't take on so; don't act that way. It can't do her no manner o'
good now. It's all--all over with, an' you ain't helpin' her none
a-settin' thar that way."
The smitten man drew a deep breath, glancing up into the kindly, seamed
face bending over him, and about at the surrounding darkness. He
acted like one suddenly aroused from sleep, unable to comprehend his
situation. Slowly, with all the tenderness of love, he crumpled his
old hat into the semblance of a pillow, placed it upon the rock, and
lowered the girl's head until it rested softly upon it. Gently he
passed his great hand in caress across the ruffled black hair, pressing
it back from her forehead. He arose to his knees, to his feet, swaying
slightly, one hand pressed against his head as he stared blankly into
the faces of the two men.
"W-which way d-did he go?" he asked, almost stupidly. "Th-the feller
w-who told 'em ter f-f-fire?"
Old Hicks, his eyes filled with misery, shook his head.
"Back ter the 'Independence,' I reckon," he admitted. "Most o' 'em I
saw started that way."
Brown roughly jerked his gun from out its holster, holding the shining
weapon up into the starlight.
"No, he didn't; not that one," he growled fiercely, his glance falling
again upon the upturned features of the dead girl. "I saw him out thar
runnin' toward our shaft-hole; h-he's up t-ter more d-deviltry. Y-you
take k-keer o' her." His voice broke, then rang out strong. "By
G-God, I 'll git the murderer!"
He pushed past between the two, shouldering them aside as though
failing to see them, and, with the leap of a tiger, disappeared in the
night. Each man had caught a glimpse of his face, drawn, white, every
line picturing savagery, and shrank back from the memory. It was as if
they had looked upon something too horrible for thought. A moment they
stared after him, clutching their rifles as though in an agony of fear.
Hicks first found words of expression.
"He 's gone mad! God pity him, he 's gone mad!"
Winston drew himself together sharply, one hand grasping the other's
arm.
"Then leave it to him," he said, quickly. "Whoever did this deed
deserves his punishment. Let us do what he bade us--look to the body
of this poor girl."
They turned back, dreading their task, moving still as though half
dazed. As they advanced, a dark body just beyond suddenly rose to its
knees, and began crawling away. With a bound Hicks succeeded in laying
hands upon the fellow, and flung him over, face upward to the stars.
With gun at his head he held the man prostrate, staring down upon the
revealed features in manifest astonishment.
"Damn me!" he cried, a new note of surprise in his voice, "Winston,
look yere!"
"What is it?" and the younger man pressed forward, his rifle ready.
"Ain't that Burke? Ain't that the same feller they had you pinched fer
murderin'?"
The helpless man lying upon the ground frowned savagely up at them, a
dirty bandage bound about his head giving him a ghastly, unnatural
appearance. For a long moment the startled engineer gazed down at him
in incredulity, unable to distinguish the features clearly, his own
heart beating rapidly in suspense.
"I half believe it is. Are you Jack Burke?"
The man attempted a grin, but there was little of merriment in the
result.
"Oi think loikely ye 're as liable as any wan to know. Ye 're the lad
that put this head on me, but that other divil it was that broke me
arm. Let me up from here. Begorry! Oi 've had 'nough fightin' fer
wan toime."
"Did you know I had been put under arrest on the charge of killing you?"
Burke grinned, this time in earnest.
"Divil a bit did Oi know anything about it. Farnham he tould me to
keep damn quiet in the bunkhouse, out o' sight, but whin they wanted
for to set this fuse off, it seems Oi was the only lad that could do
the job, an' so they brought me out here along wid 'em. It 's a busted
head an' a broken arm Oi 've got for me share o' the fun. Be the
powers, now, let me git up!"
The two men, watching him closely, exchanged glances.
"All right, Burke," and Winston held up his rifle suggestively. "You
can get up, only stay close to us, wid no tricks. I want you, and I
want you bad. If you make any break, there 'll be a dead Irishman this
time sure. Is that you, Mike?"
"Sure, sor."
"Good; you've come just in time. Drop your muzzle on this native son,
and if the fellow makes a suspicious move, plug him, you understand?"
"Ye bet Oi do, sor. Sthep out there, Burke, yer slab-sided boss o'
Swades, or Oi 'll show ye what a dacent Oirishman--an O'Brien,
bedad,--thinks o' the loikes of ye; Oi will that."
With sympathetic gentleness, and in all the tenderness possible, their
eyes moist, and everything else forgotten excepting their sad task,
Hicks and Winston kneeled on the hard rock and lifted the slender
figure of Mercedes in their arms. Slowly, without the exchange of a
word, the little concourse turned in the darkness, and advanced in the
direction of the cabin, bearing the silent burden. They walked with
bowed heads and careful steps, their hearts heavy. With a faint whinny
the girl's deserted pony trotted forward from out the shadow where he
had been left, sniffed at her trailing skirt with outstretched nose,
and fell in behind, walking with head bent almost to the ground as
though he also understood and mourned. Winston glanced, marvelling,
back at the animal, hastily brushing a tear from out his own eye; yet
his lips remained set and rigid. He felt no doubt about who it was
Brown was seeking through the black night. When they met, it would be
a battle to the death.
Before the still open door of the cabin they silently lowered their
burden in the shadow of the building. An instant they stood there
listening intently for any sound to reach them from out the surrounding
night. Then Winston, assuming the duty, stepped reluctantly forward
endeavoring to peer within. His heart throbbed from the pain of that
sudden message of death he brought.
"Beth," he called, perceiving no movement within, and compelling his
voice to calmness. "Miss Norvell."
There was a slight movement near the farther wall, but it was the voice
of the wounded sheriff which answered.
"Who are yer? What was all that firin' about just now? Damn if I ain
't too weak ter git up, but I got a gun yere, an' reckon I kin pull the
trigger."
"It's Winston and Hicks. We 've had a skirmish out beyond the dump.
Those fellows tried to blow up our shaft, and we caught them at it. Is
Miss Norvell here?"
"No, I reckon not; she was sittin' yere talkin' to me when that
shootin' begun, an' then she ran out the door thar. Anybody git hurt?"
"The little Mexican girl was killed. We have brought her body here."
"Good God!"
"And we 've also got a prisoner, sheriff. It 's that same Jack Burke
you arrested me for killing. He seems very much alive."
There was a rustling back in the darkness, as if the man within was
endeavoring to draw his body into a sitting posture. Then he swore
savagely, pounding his fist into the side of the bunk, as though
seeking thus to relieve his feelings.
"Burke!" he fairly exploded at last, his anger appearing to stifle
utterance. "Jack Burke! Hell! Is that true? Oh, Lord! but I wish I
could git out o' yere. That damn Farnham swore out that warrant down
in San Juan, ther blame, ornery cur. It was a low-down, measly trick,
an' he actually had the nerve ter use me ter play out his game fer him.
Lord! if ever I git my hand on him I 'll shut down hard."
No one answered him, the thought of all recurring reverently to the
motionless, silent dead without. Bareheaded, the two men, groping
through the darkness, bore Mercedes within in all tenderness, and
placed the slender form upon the bed, covering it with the single
sheet. Hicks remained motionless, bending over her, the kindly
darkness veiling the mist of tears dimming his old eyes and the
trembling of his lips as he sought, for the first time in years, to
pray. But Winston turned instantly and walked over toward Hayes, his
heart already filled with fresh anxiety.
"Where did she go, do you know?"
"Who? the young actress woman? I could n't see exactly, only she went
outside. I thought I heard voices talkin' out thar later on, over
beyond toward the window, but maybe I imagined it. Darn this ol' head
o' mine! It keeps whirlin' round every time I move, like it was all
wheels."
The engineer, his face white with determination, strode to the door.
Beyond doubt it was Biff Farnham whose voice Brown had recognized,
commanding his men to fire; it was Farnham who had disappeared in the
direction of the "Little Yankee" shaft-house. What fresh deviltry was
the desperate gambler engaged upon? What other tragedy was impending
out there in the black night?