Collected Works of Zane Grey, page 1360
“Hello, Bert,” called the first cowboy in a harsh and not by any means restrained voice.
“That you, Monte?” came the sharp reply from the darkness.
“You know it’s me.”
“What the hell are you doin’ heah? You said you’d be gone long before midnight.”
“I said a lot of things that didn’t happen,” growled Monte.
The next moment the man called Bert loomed in the silver moonlight dragging a calf over the ground. He stopped at the gate and, loosening his lasso, kicked the calf into the corral.
“Wal, Monte, reckon we’ll have to cut the cards for who goes in first.”
“Nope. I’ve been.... Bert, the fire’s out.”
“Watcha mean? You haven’t started any fire heah.”
“Nah, I didn’t. I mean the fire’s out as far at Kit Bandon’s concerned.”
“Cowboy, are you drunk or loco?”
“I ain’t nothin’ but plain sore. I ain’t so damn sure thet I wasn’t seen tonight with thet calf. All for nothin’. Kit turned me down. I’m bound to admit she was nice and kind, but she’s through. She won’t take no more mavericks.”
“Wal, I’ll be damned!” exclaimed Bert. “That’s a sticker. What’s she got agin you, Monte?”
“Nothin’ at all. She was jest as sweet as pie lettin’ me down. She wasn’t sore at me. She’s jest changed her mind about buyin’ doggies.”
“Hang around a little bit,” retorted the other. “I’ll betcha two bits she won’t turn me down.”
“Say, Bert Rawlins, you shore do hate yoreself. I’ll bet you my saddle and gun and spurs she does turn you down.”
“Yore on, Monte. Don’t get tired waitin’ for me neither.” And with that he strode off into the silvery gloom.
After a moment or so Monte began to roll a cigarette. “It’d be funny if Bert was right,” muttered the cowboy in tones perfectly audible to Bradway. “I always thought Kit didn’t fancy me too much. And Bert is a handsome dog and has a way with women, damn him!”
He closed the gate and leaned against it smoking. The calves that had evidently been dragged around considerably were beginning to recover and be active. Lincoln lay there almost afraid to breathe. He was feeling considerable relief over developments. Almost he had been ready to believe that Kit Bandon had lied to him. Now if the second rustler returned with her refusal to accept any more stolen livestock then he would know that she had told him the truth. The moments seemed interminably long. He did not want to count on Kit Bandon’s regeneration through love, if in another moment it might be dispelled. His suspense came to an end abruptly. Suddenly the other cowboy loomed up.
“Got a smoke, pard?” he asked, huskily.
“Got the makin’s heah.... Bert, you didn’t stay very long.”
“Ha! Why should I? She came at my first call. She told me the deal for mavericks was off. I argued with her. She was reasonable and patient with me, tried to make me think she regretted our deals in the past. Thanked me for what I’d done for her but thet kinda talk didn’t go with me. Then I got sore. ‘That may be all right, Kit,’ I said, ‘but I’ve done my part. You pay me now!’ .. . By God! she said ‘No!’ and believe me, Monte, thet was wuss’n a slap in my face. I cussed her good and then she flashed a gun on me. I saw it shine in the moonlight. ‘I owe you nothing, Bert Rawlins. I paid you for every cow you ever stole. Run along now or I’ll shoot your leg off.’ And I shore ran.”
The cowboy ended out of breath and with a broken, uncertain little laugh that hinted of inexplicable defeat.
“Can you beat thet? Bert, are you goin’ to crawfish on our bet?”
“Hell, no. I’ll throw in my hoss if you want it,” returned Bert dejectedly.
“No, I don’t want your hoss nor the bet either. But for Judas’ sake, what’s happened to Kit Bandon all of a sudden?”
“Monte, I didn’t know that woman any more. She looked like an angel in the moonlight and her voice was jest as sweet as an angel’s until I made her mad.... But, lordy, what will become of me now? I jest lived on the hope of seein’ this woman — of hearin’ her voice — of—”
“Wal, pard, you ain’t holdin’ the sack all by yoreself. Come on, let’s rustle out of heah.”
“What’ll we do with the calves?”
“Leave the gate open. They’ll wander out into the sage.”
CHAPTER XII
THE NEBRASKAN AROSE from his cramped position and stretched himself. Emerging from the shed he stood in the shadow, resolving to himself to put what happened out of his mind for the time being. Now should he let well enough alone or venture further with the solution of the greater mystery? While considering his next move he gazed about him. The full moon was bright. Shadows from the eastern side of the corral were beginning to lose their length. Passing along the shed he came to the ranch fence which reached from the corrals to the house. Suddenly a wild idea flashed into his mind: why not call Kit out himself? He dismissed the mad impulse but it returned more insistently than ever. He remembered that one of his cowboy gifts, which had stood him in good stead many a time, was the power to disguise his voice. Why not impersonate a third cowboy and see for himself what Kit’s reaction would be? If she refused to deal with him, then he would be certain that she had put her unscrupulous past behind her. He paused a moment to estimate the risk. If Lucy heard him she would not know him from some other cowboy. If he could give a convincing performance, the chances were that he would not give himself away.
He decided to stay inside the fence and go around the house on the inside. Like a skulking Indian he made sure that the coast was clear, then glided stealthily along the fence to the yard. The gate was open; he passed through and in a short moment reached the deep shadow of the ranch house. Here he paused again to listen. The night was very still; stars were sinking in the west; Lincoln heard the soft murmur of the river and the sad song of insects and the beating of his own heart. To a man inured to excitement as he was, this incident should have seemed trivial. But it loomed tremendously in his imagination; he could not understand why. He glided along the house again, presently gaining an open window no higher than his head. He gave a start as his sharp eyes recognized Lucy’s sombrero and scarf on the window sill. Acting upon sudden impulse without analyzing his reasons for it, he made up his mind to awaken Lucy, but by calling Kit’s name. Putting his head over the sill, and not forgetting to disguise his voice, he called low: “Kit, wake up!”
He heard a sudden movement, then a low, angry, voice. “Go away, cowboy. This is not Kit’s room.”
It was Lucy’s voice. He whispered: “Lucy, it’s Lincoln. Come here to the window.”
He heard a gasp, then the flinging aside of bed covers and the soft pad of bare feet on the floor. In a moment more she appeared at the window. Dark as it was on that side he could distinguish her pale face, her eyes looking big and dark, her hair falling over the white of her gown.
“Am I dreaming or plain crazy?” she whispered. “Is it you, Lincoln?”
“Yes. Don’t be frightened, Lucy. It’s all right.”
She sank on her knees and leaned out of the window.
“Oh, but what in the world are you doing here?”
“Wait. Where’s Kit’s room?” he asked.
“It’s on the other side of the house. The living room is between hers and mine.”
“Good!” he exclaimed. “I wouldn’t want her to catch me.” He took hold of Lucy’s trembling hands. “I tell you, don’t be scared. It’s all right. This is my lucky night. I came out here to do a little reconnoitering. I hid inside the shed behind that maverick corral. I stayed there until I had found out what I wanted to know — that Kit Bandon wasn’t going to buy any more stolen mavericks. I decided to call Kit myself and pretend to be another cowboy, bringing a stolen maverick. I want to be certain that she has had a change of heart. I want to have that proof in case I ever have to defend her against the cattlemen.”
“Oh, Lincoln, I know she has changed,” murmured Lucy excitedly. “It’s too good to be true. She has been sweet and lovely to me ever since we got back from the Springs. She talks of leaving the Sweetwater Valley soon.”
“That’s wonderful,” whispered Bradway. “Oh, I hope it isn’t too late and that her past catches up with her before she can get away. Now, Lucy, I will go round on the other side and call her the same as those other cowboys did. I’ll disguise my voice and pretend to be another cowpoke who’s a stranger to her. I’ll say I stole a calf and brought it to her. I’ll argue and insist and demand. Then we’ll see.”
“Lincoln, be terribly careful. If she learns who you are and thinks you were spying on her she’ll shoot to kill.”
“I will. But I’m in no hurry. It’s sweet to be here with you like this,” he whispered. “I’d almost forgotten that you were my sweetheart, say nothing about being my wife.” And pulling her face down he kissed her.
She was breathless, but far from unresponsive in her return of his caress. Suddenly Lincoln was seized with a mounting madness.
“Lucy,” he whispered.
“Yes?” she answered.
“You’re my lawful wife, you know. I have a right to come in there. Would you let me?”
“Mercy!” gasped Lucy. “If she caught us she would kill us both.”
“You darling! I was only pretending.... But some day, I warn you, I won’t be satisfied to whisper to my wife through windows. Don’t worry about me. And don’t forget our date next Wednesday up on the Sweetwater.”
Tearing himself away from her clinging arms he slipped silently away among the shadows. Then the thought crossed his mind that Lucy had been most reluctant to allow him to awaken Kit. Probably if he had stayed longer she might have said something or persuaded him not to go. At the end of the house under the shade of the trees he halted to compose himself. This was risky business he was embarked upon, but he felt confident that he could carry it through. He stole soundlessly around the end of the house, halting at the corner. There was only one window on that side, half-obscured by the shade of a tree a couple of steps outside the wall. It was open. Lincoln went to the edge of the window and called in: “Kit Bandon!”
He heard her stir in her bed. “What? Who?” she asked. “Is that you back again, Bert Rawlins?... You’ve got a nerve to come back here, cowboy.”
“No, it ain’t Rawlins,” drawled Lincoln. “Come over to the winder.” He stepped back into the shadow of the tree, hiding his face with his sombrero. She was slow to reach the window and lean out. He heard the thump of a gun on the window sill. He realized that a man took perilous chances in trifling with this woman.
“Who are you?” she called, peering hard at him. In the partial moonlight he could see her distinctly — a startling and beautiful apparition in night clothes.
“I’m a stranger,” replied the Nebraskan, slowly nerving himself to the ordeal. “Cowpoke. Name is Orville Stone lately come to Sweetwater. Ridin’ fer Perkins down the river.”
“Yes, and what do you want?” demanded Kit. “What do you mean by coming to my home in the middle of the night and awakening me from my sleep.”
“I was tipped off by a cowboy friend.”
“Did you meet any other cowboys ‘round here?”
“Yes. Two of them, but they didn’t see me.”
“Well, hurry and state your business.”
“I’ve brought you a maverick.”
“I don’t want it,” replied Kit sharply.
“Why not? I was given to understand—”
“I’ve changed my mind. I’m not taking any more mavericks from cowboys.”
“But lady, I heard diff’runt. I’ve took a damn big risk an’ gone to a lot of trouble packin’ this calf in my arms over twenty miles. I wisht you could make an exception in this case,” he pleaded.
“Oh, I don’t blame you. It’s a rotten deal. Did I ever see you?”
“No, but I’ve seen you three times an’ I’m afraid them three times has jest about throwed me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean — well, this here is the fourth time I’ve seen you an’ I’d like fer you to let me come acourtin’ now an’ again. I’ve fallen purty hard fer a cowpoke, ma’am.”
“That is worse and more of it,” replied Kit with a note of weary regret. “I’m to blame for this. I’m sorry. Whoever told you was honest enough. He thought I would take your livestock, cowboy. Won’t you let me off this deal?”
“I don’t see why I should. It’s a deal jest as much as if you asked me to come hyah.”
“Oh, I realize that’s true. But you see, I’ve gone out of this business. I won’t make any more rustlers out of cowboys. I won’t take another maverick from any cowboy.”
“But why, Miss Bandon?” the man in the shadows whispered eagerly. “I acted in good faith. The way I see it you owe it to me to take this maverick off my hands.”
“Why?” she flashed angrily, and her white and black beauty blazed in the moonlight. “You don’t know it, but I’ve prayed God to forgive me for enticing you boys to steal mavericks. Something has happened to me which has changed my heart and soul and mind... . Now, cowboy, that’s sayin’ a lot to a stranger. You talk like a gentleman. Be one and spare me—”
“Woman,” interrupted the cowboy in a nasty tone. “Will you keep your word?”
“No, damn you! Not even if I have to kill another man.”
Bradway stood in silence for a moment thrilled with the knowledge that the Maverick Queen had renounced her throne. What he had hoped and prayed for was true. Then speaking once more in his natural voice, he said: “Kit, be careful what you do with that gun.”
“My God! — who are you?”
“It’s Linc Bradway, Kit. Forgive me for playing this trick on you, lady.”
She dropped the gun outside the window and fell forward against the sill to bow her head. Her long black hair fell around her shoulders.
“Oh, Lincoln, you’ve — found me — out,” she whispered heartbrokenly.
Lincoln stepped forward and recovered the gun. He stood up close to her.
“But not too late, Kit,” he whispered.
She raised herself up and rested her chin on her bare arms. In the moonlight she seemed transcendentally beautiful. Her face was as white as her nightgown. Her great dark eyes were wide and tragic.
“Lincoln, you spied upon me?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do it for?”
“I had several reasons,” he replied. “The main one was to catch you in the act—”
“What — act?” she interposed.
“Why, of buying those stolen mavericks from cowboys,” he replied. “I wanted to catch you in the act and then try to persuade you to save yourself and Lucy by stopping it. But, as it happened, I didn’t catch you. I hid out there in the shed back of the corral. Monte came with a stolen calf, then Bert Rawlins came with another, and I lay there listening and presently when they got together I heard them talking about the amazing change in you. They couldn’t understand it. But I do. After they left I conceived the idea of seeing for myself just how you had changed. I came and I fooled you, Kit. It has distressed you but it has made me happy.”
“I don’t seem to be able to forgive you, Linc. I didn’t want you ever — ever to find out that I was a — a — a maverick thief. I wanted to get away with you before you found out — and that I’ve been the death of more than one cowboy.”
“I know, Kit, but the way I feel toward you now should make you forget some of the shame and suffering.”
“What do you feel for me — now?” she demanded wonderingly.
“I feel a great respect for a woman who can do what you have done.”
“But how could you? I’ve done all the things you suspected me of, Linc.”
“Because you are a changed woman and I am glad.... Kit, I didn’t fall for your seductive charms. The only reason was that I did not love you — that was hard for you to believe. But now, Kit, I respect you for the strong—”
“Oh, Lincoln, respect is something — but even a little love would be—” and she reached for him with her bare white arms.
Lincoln did not resist her embrace.
“Darling, if you could love me, even a little — would you leave this country with me?”
“I can’t, Kit. I told you. I’m a married man.”
“But you have saved my soul,” she protested.
“Kit, listen,” he began earnestly, releasing the white clinging arms. “That’s all very well about saving your soul. I hope to God it is true, but I want to save your good name — you and your niece from disgrace — and hope of happiness — certainly your freedom and perhaps your life.”
She was startled. She drew away from him wildly. “My — my life!” she exclaimed. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe that is an exaggeration,” went on Lincoln hurriedly, “but I’m worried. A terrible flare-up between the cowboys and the cattlemen has broken out. It’s on your account. Kit. Your rustlers have gotten out of hand. They can’t do anything to the cowboys. The ranchers have found that out. The beating of Harkness was a crazy blunder. The murder of Hargrove and desperate wounding of Nesbit have proved that. The cattlemen do not present a united front. They’ve split. But there’s one faction that is for revenge. I don’t know who they are but Lee is at the head of it. Lee is one of your conquests, and you should know that he’s dangerous when he has been crossed. You mocked him, flouted him, made his name a laughingstock in the valley. I know cattlemen of his type. Only his infatuation for you kept him from sending you to jail — or worse. Lee has enough on you to hang you. These are hard times on the range.”
“But Lincoln, it can’t go on. I’m through. I will never steal mavericks again. This turndown of Monte and Rawlins will spread over the valley like wildfire.”
“But my dear, it may be too late,” he whispered.
“Oh, no, Lincoln, I’m sure you’re wrong. I can handle the situation. I’ll make amends in whatever way I can. I’ll break with Emery. I’ll find some way of placating these bitter enemies of mine.”
